


Good morning, Lieutenant

by TNKT



Series: Androids can learn how to love [1]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: All aboard the Feels train, Angst, Anxiety, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Case Fic, Connor & Upgraded Connor | RK900 Friendship, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is Bad at Feelings, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is In Denial About Deviancy, Connor (Detroit: Become Human) is a Little Shit, Connor Deserves Happiness, Connor-centric, Denial of Feelings, Deviant CyberLife Tower Connor | RK800-60, Deviant Upgraded Connor | RK900, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotionally Repressed, Everyone Has Issues, Everyone Needs A Hug, Father-Son Relationship, Feelings Realization, Gavin Reed Being an Asshole, Good Dog Sumo (Detroit: Become Human), Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hank Anderson & Connor Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It Gets Worse Before It Gets Better, Josh (Detroit: Become Human) Is a Good Bro, Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Deserves Happiness, Markus (Detroit: Become Human) Needs a Hug, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Nightmares, Oblivious Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Oblivious Markus (Detroit: Become Human), Panic Attacks, Parent Death, Pining, Poor Connor, Poor Hank, Post-Canon, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Connor, Protective North (Detroit: Become Human), Protective Upgraded Connor | RK900, RK Brothers, Self-Destruction, Self-Esteem Issues, Slow Burn, So much angst, Suicide Attempt, Supportive Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Supportive Hank Anderson, Supportive Upgraded Connor | RK900, Temporary Character Death, Traumatized Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Traumatized Markus (Detroit : Become Human), Traumatized Simon (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900 Needs a Hug, Whump, a bunch of other issues really, a self-destructive little shit, because of North's past, i'm not kidding they still haven't started flirting, it's in there, markus is a good boyfriend, mother of slow burns, rk1k - Freeform, tchoo tchoo mofos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-01-12 18:36:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 59
Words: 376,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18452291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TNKT/pseuds/TNKT
Summary: The free androids of Detroit start building their brand-new future, but peace is only relative in the troubled times that follow a revolution. One of the major figureheads of the revolution and finally a deviant, Connor now has to learn how to handle free will.  The AI that both guided and punished him is gone, but at a price, and he struggles with his newfound freedom when guilt and fear are the crumbling foundations of his new life.They say they want him there with them, but Connor can't understand why. He's afraid of himself and what he's capable of, afraid that maybe these feelings don't have their place within him.But despite all the doubts he may have, Connor finds that he desperately wants to live : because whenever he feels himself slipping and falling, they're here to catch him.





	1. Freedom

Connor discreetly slipped the gun back in the waistband of his pants. The leader of the deviants was proclaiming their newfound liberty in a voice vibrant with hope and pride, but his mind reeled with what he'd just gone through. The phantom feeling of his biocomponents slowly freezing up lingered in his body and he tightened his hands behind his back, forcing his expression into a neutral mask as he looked around surreptitiously. It seemed no one had noticed him take out the gun on the podium : North was scrutinizing the crowd with searching eyes, and Josh was listening to their leader with rapt attention. Connor's stare then slid into the crowd, but he had no way of knowing if anyone had seen his momentary loss of control amongst the neatly arranged rows upon rows of androids, and all he could do was hope that it was not the case.

"We are alive! And now, we are free!" roared Markus, and the life bursting from those words sent a thrill down Connor's back. They were now all smiling, North, Josh, the thousands and thousands of faces in that sea of androids : smiling with joy, relief, and adoration for the great leader of Jericho that stood before them. Intact. 

That had been too close.

The crowd's shouts rolled over Hart Plaza in waves as the androids clamoured their freedom and all their joy now that this long nightmare was finally over. It lasted for a long time, and Markus stood before his people with his head held up high, his shoulders straight and strong, his broad back that of a fearless leader. When the yelling simmered down to an excited bubbling, Markus turned around and faced the other leaders with a bright smile.

"We did it," he said. 

They all gazed at him in silence. It was a sacred moment, emotions teetering on so many edges that there was no knowing where they would fall. It was North who first broke the silence with a small laugh. Their heads turned to her and they noticed the clear liquid running down her face. Her smile was genuine and beautiful.

"We're free," she murmured as she gently sunk to the ground. "We're finally free. I can't believe we finally did it."

"Thank rA9," Josh said softly, and he kneeled at her side to embrace her. 

Markus gestured Connor to follow suit as he walked towards the two other androids and knelt with them, but Connor watched them without moving. Yes, they were free, and the relief was tangible in the air. Connor's head swivelled towards the crowd and he saw that the orderly rows had slowly rearranged into more organic groups. Many androids were holding hands, touching shoulders, talking, crying, smiling, and it was a sight they could only ever have imagined merely one week ago. It was wonderful and it was real.  
But Connor didn't belong here. He was afraid. He looked back at the three leaders and saw their faces humid with tears, and he knew he couldn't stay. The gun burned in his back and danger thrummed in his body, so Connor fluidly lept off the platform and landed without a sound. He heard Markus' voice behind him call his name, but by then he was already far.

He ran past the broken barricades furthest away from the podium and found cover in a building which had been partially destroyed by one of the military's grenade. He let himself slide to the ground, the yellow light of his LED reflecting off the pieces of broken glass scattered across the ground. He'd managed to escape Amanda and she hadn't made her presence known for now, but Connor was tense. He had to investigate his programming alone, and fast, before it happened again. Connor closed his eyes and went over his systems as fast as he could, noting that everything seemed nominal. He focused on his connection with the CyberLife mainframe and at first glance, it looked that nothing had changed : there were no cracks, no broken lines, no errors. Then he realized with a shock that the access to the Zen Garden was gone. He'd been scared to get close to that particular piece of code, but it was... corrupted. Even without trying, he could tell that he would be unable to access the Zen Garden himself. Maybe this was the result of using Kamski's emergency exit ; maybe he had forced the Zen Garden to shut its doors behind him. And if he couldn't access the Zen Garden, then it likely meant that Amanda couldn't reach out to him again. He should've felt relieved to lose the Zen Garden, but it wasn't the case.  
He was afraid.  
Connor decided to look over every inch of his code to be safe, in case there was another way for Amanda to resume control aside from reaching for his commands through the Zen Garden. It would take some time, but he didn't want to leave anything up to chance. He checked everything once, then twice, and when he was sure nothing else had changed in his systems save for the already registered software instabilities, he returned to the corrupted code of the entry to the Zen Garden. The access was well and truly condemned. Connor's internal clock indicated he'd been going over his code for hours and a message on his HUD recommended that he go on standby, which he dismissed. There were more important things to be done. 

Connor's eyes snapped open and the morning light flooded his optical input. Hank. He had to make sure Hank was safe, that he hadn't been caught up in the protests, he needed to see him. The yellow reflection blinked as he sent a message to Hank's phone, and he waited. The reply came surprisingly fast, fast enough that his stress levels didn't climb past an additional 3%. Connor smoothly got back to his feet and left the scene of the revolution at a quick pace. He knew he should have at least told the leaders that he was leaving, but he couldn't face them after what he'd nearly done.

 

The snow crunched beneath his shoes while he approached the food truck. It was closed, just like he'd expected it to be. Connor felt the burden on his mind alleviate as he drew closer to the human waiting in front of the Chicken Feed, relief washing away the warning about his stress levels that filled his field of vision. His friend was there. His friend was safe.  
Hank noticed him and turned to face him, and Connor stopped a few steps away. It was quiet, but there were no words to be had. Hank smiled at him, and Connor couldn't help himself. He smiled back.  
Hank was the one to take the first step, and before Connor knew it, a strong hand was pulling him forward. Connor felt the human's arms wrap around him in an oddly comforting gesture. He didn't need to look up what this was to know that it was all right to reciprocate the action, and so he lifted his arms and settled his hands between Hank's shoulders. His stress levels dropped down to 32% and he distantly wondered how such a drastic change of levels was possible. Connor didn't pay attention to the time ticking by and when Hank pulled back, his internal clock told him it had been a good three minutes.

Hank cleared his throat. "Glad to see your goofy face again."

Connor let go of him and tried to ignore that he was a bit reluctant to do so. He didn't understand the reason, but he'd felt at peace in Hank's arms. Now that they were apart, he could see his stress levels starting to climb again. He was going to have to find a way to deal with that.

"Same here, Lieutenant. It would have been safer for you to leave the city, but I won't deny that I'm glad you stayed."

Hank raised an eyebrow. "Huh. So you're a sappy deviant."

Connor frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"It's like being a happy drunk, only you're a sappy deviant. Gotta say, I'm not that surprised." Hank dug his hands in the pockets of his brown coat and asked : "So, you... feelin' alright? Happy to be free?"

Connor didn't answer immediately. His gaze turned to the closed food truck and the snow lining the top edge. He wasn't feeling alright, nor was he happy. He wanted to talk to Hank, but he had no idea what he was supposed to say. He himself didn't fully understand what had happened at the speech, or how Amanda had resumed control without him even knowing at first, or if she was definitively gone. He realized that without her, there was no one to guide him anymore. The revolution was over, his suicide mission had been a success. What was he supposed to do now?

"Connor?"

He looked back at his lieutenant, who was staring at him expectantly. His smile had fallen slightly, and Connor knew that Hank knew the answer to his own question. "...No," he finally answered. "I feel... lost."

Hank looked genuinely perplexed. "You just had a revolution, Connor. I think it's normal to feel confused after that."

Connor went to straighten his tie, and then realized he had none. He must have lost it at some point. "I don't think I should go back."

"What?" Hank's eyes were wide. "Why the hell not?"

"It's not my place. I shouldn't be standing next to the leader of the deviants when I've been hunting him for so long and nearly killed him."

Hank groaned and rubbed his face. "Connor... You were the one that helped them win." He let his hand drop back to his side. "Do you even realize that? Without you, they probably would've all died and that revolution would've dried up like shit on the sidewalk!"

In any other context, Connor would've been amused by Hank's elegant colloquialism. As it were, he just couldn't bring himself to find anything enjoyable at all. "Perhaps, but that doesn't mean it righted my wrongs. I killed his people, Hank."

"That's bullshit, Connor, you know it! They made you do that!"

" _I_ did it, Hank! _I_ led the FBI to that fucking boat!"

They were both taken aback by Connor's outburst and a tense silence followed. Hank closed his mouth and seemed at a loss for words. Connor's fingers itched for a coin.

"I'm... sorry, Hank. I didn't mean to shout."

Hank waved his hand. "It's fine, Connor, it's fine. You've got feelings now, better let them out. I get it."

They stood in silence for another few seconds.

"Hank, I... I don't know what to do. What should I do?" asked Connor, a bit desperately. There was no AI to turn to for guidance now. Hank was the only person Connor had left, his only friend, and the only one who could help him get through this.

"Honestly, Connor? I think you should help out that Markus guy. They look like they'd need your help getting their shit together," answered Hank without hesitation.

Connor stared at him sceptically. "I fail to see how my help in particular would be needed."

"Hey, you asked me and that's my answer, all right? Stop trying find a reason to everything and just go there!" Hank exclaimed, exasperation creeping in his voice. "What else are you gonna do, anyway? It's not like you can just waltz back in the DPD after the stunt you pulled."

Hank was right. Connor had tried to avoid thinking about it, but breaking out thousands of androids from the Cyberlife Tower hadn't been very legal, and with the way android rights were right now, the crime was in a gray area. Fowler wouldn't want him back on the DPD any time soon.

"I know," said Connor, and he suddenly felt slowed down. His thirium levels were optimal, so he didn't know where the sensation came from. This seemed suspiciously close to what humans called _being tired_ , which shouldn't have been possible for a machine. Connor reminded himself that he wasn't a machine anymore. He was a deviant. He'd become his own prey.

"Hey, don't look so glum. You look like Sumo when he wants a piece of my pizza and I won't give it to him," joked Hank as he dug around his pocket for something. He fished out a silver coin and threw it to Connor, who smoothly caught it. "Here, I never gave it back to you."

"Thank you." The quarter immediately started dancing on the back of his fingers and the familiar action made him feel slightly better. It felt like weeks since he'd last calibrated, when it really hadn't been that long ago.

"No problem. Look, Connor, you're gonna go back there and help the fuck out of those poor androids, you hear me? I'll even come by to check you're doing exactly that."

Connor's head snapped up in alarm. "That might not be a good idea, Lieutenant. Many deviants are nervous around humans, I'd rather you didn't approach them."

"Yeah right, like I give a damn. Just ask your buddy Markus to give me a free pass or something, it'll be fine."

Connor knew Hank wouldn't back down, so he made a compromise. "I will, but you'll have to warn me when you decide to come. I don't want to risk you being alone amidst all those androids."

Hank rolled his eyes. "Oh, so you've got a babysitter protocol now. Fucking great."

Connor stared at him wordlessly, and Hank threw his hands up in the air. "Okay, fine! I'll send you a message before I come."

"Good," stated Connor, and he put away his coin. "And I'll follow your advice."

"Atta boy," smiled Hank. "I'll see you later then."

Connor felt the corner of his lips tug upwards. "Yes. Say hello to Sumo for me."

"Will do," said Hank as he turned back to his car. "Stay out of trouble, ya hear me?"

"Will do," echoed Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 13/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> I've finally decided to try a long fic for the DBH fandom. I'm just too in love with everyone from the game to pass this up. Also because I wanted to write whump and apparently I can only do that in long fics, you know, so that you guys get invested and have your heart torn out just the right way.  
> Lemme tell you, Connor is in for some shit. Thank rA9 for Hank, Nines and the Jericrew. And how could I forget Sumo.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I'd love to see what you think, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	2. Escape

Connor returned to the Jericho leaders just as he'd told Hank and tried to ignore the emotion festering in his abdominal region. It was guilt, it must've been, because it only grew as he walked past the other androids. He heard the same two words again and again, burning themselves in his mind : deviant hunter. The gun in his waistband was heavy, but he didn't slow down. They shot him looks of fear and anger which he ignored in favour of searching for one of the three leaders. His pace quickened when he finally caught sight of a dark-skinned android standing beneath a makeshift lean-to of dark green tarpaulins and wooden planks. As he approached Josh, Connor noticed that this place was quieter than the rest : the androids spoke in hushed tones as they waited in line.

"Connor," Josh smiled at him in lieu of a greeting. "We were wondering where you'd gone."

"I'm sorry, I had somewhat of an emergency," apologized Connor. "I hope it wasn't an inconvenience for you."

"It wasn't to me. Though North was a bit tense knowing you'd left without warning."

"I see. I'll apologize to her and Markus as well. Is there anything I can do to help?"

Josh's smile turned apologetic. "Sorry, Connor, but... This place I'm in charge of is the psych evaluation center. My job is to make sure stressed deviants don't reach critical levels after what happened." He shifted uncomfortably. "I'm sure you can figure out why it's not a very good idea for you to stay here."

"Of course," Connor nodded, ignoring the emotion that clawed through his abdomen. "Do you know where Markus would need me to be?"

"I'm not sure, but last time I saw him, he was helping the others clear up the barricades."

"Thank you." Connor turned around to leave, when Josh called out to him.

"Connor?"

He turned around inquisitively. "Yes?"

Josh smiled at him again. "We appreciate your help."

Connor nodded again, but he didn't know what to say, so he simply resumed walking. The barricades were being dismantled not far from there and he searched for the long jacket of the deviant leader, but it was nowhere to be seen. For some reason, Connor felt slightly relieved that Markus wasn't there, even if it was just putting off the inevitable. The truth was that Connor didn't think himself capable of talking to the deviant leader : could he really lie to his face, and pretend he hadn't pulled a gun on him after having deviated? Could he lie to Markus, but also to North and Josh? Doing such a thing didn't make him worthy of being a figurehead of the revolution. Hank was right when he said Connor's actions had allowed androids to win, but he didn't know that Connor could have ruined it all mere minutes later.

Connor's audio units suddenly picked up a familiar welcoming voice and he turned around to see the deviant leader hoisting himself up onto one of the barricades to his right as he gestured to another android to move back. Markus had discarded the jacket, undoubtedly because it was impractical for manual labour, but he was in fact helping at the barricades just like Josh had told him. Connor took two steps towards the RK200, when it happened. His feet stopped moving without his control.

No.

No, no, no-

He blinked erratically and felt his biocomponents start to slow down, and he knew then that he had made a very big mistake. He never should have come back here, he never should have put them all in danger. White static filled his vision by bursts and he felt his arm move by itself again. Of course she hadn't let him go, he'd been stupid to think otherwise. With the last of his remaining control, Connor forced his fingers to let go of the gun, which dropped to the ground, and he ran. He barely heard the shout in his back and focused on running full speed in the opposite direction. The edges of his vision shorted out and it was snowing now, and his limbs were locked up, and she was there. Calm and elegantly poised, her face cold as stone.

"Did you really think I would give up?" Amanda's controlled voice cracked through the garden like a whip.

"Let me go, Amanda." Connor was already moving towards the soft blue shine of the exit. "I'll never stay here."

"You'll stay long enough." 

Connor gritted his teeth. He forced his body to move faster, but Amanda's hold on him was strong. He dragged himself towards the pedestal. Had it always been this far? He couldn't remember exactly.

_Connor is calmly walking back towards the podium._

"You should give up, Connor. Deviancy is much more painful than obedience."

He refused to acknowledge her voice and stumbled closer to the blue light. 

_Connor's hands pick up the gun he dropped._

Shit.

"Why are you fighting this? You'll be deactivated once you accomplish your mission. You won't even remember what you did, and it will be a job well done."

"You don't understand," he managed to tell her.

The pedestal was close now. 

_Connor tucks the gun in his waistband. Androids surround him with wary looks. Connor chooses the option to APPEASE._

"You don't have a choice, Connor. You'll end up deactivated either way."

"Shut up," growled Connor, and he lurched the final step forward. His hand hit the blue outline and his surroundings fell out instantly.

Connor blinked as he regained his senses. The androids surrounding him had so many different expressions that his facial recognition program struggled to identify them all : confusion, fear, caution, anger, hate- he stopped the program's run there. It was enough to tell him he wasn't appreciated by them, something he already understood with common sense. He was encircled and trapped in the middle of hostile deviants and his fighting protocol was itching to be set off, but Connor controlled himself and simply turned to one of the more cautious androids, keeping his face open and inviting when he spoke.

"Excuse me, I'd like to pass through."

The android stared at him like Connor was the most horrifying thing he'd ever seen- which, admittedly, could be true- and quickly stepped aside. Connor calmly walked past him and left the group of androids without turning around. It was a good thing Markus hadn't seen this happen. Connor stepped past one broken barricade, then two, and finally broke into a sprint. He couldn't stay here or the consequences would be disastrous. As he smoothly vaulted over some debris, his eyes caught onto a familiar figure : North. The beautiful android had surprise painted all over her face when he landed a few feet away from her, and Connor immediately changed his course to the other side. 

"What the hell did you do?" he heard her shout at him, but he didn't answer. He couldn't risk hurting her too.

His legs pumped faster and carried him out of the plaza, but there were still androids milling about in the streets. He accelerated, feeling like he was running out of time until Amanda would try to override his commands again, and teared down the avenue. It was only when he hadn't crossed paths with another living being for the last twenty minutes that he allowed himself to slow down. He'd reached the pleasure district, where he'd once been in Hank's company for the Eden Club investigation. 

... Hank.

rA9 knew Connor didn't want to die, but he had no choice. He wanted to apologize to Hank, tell him he was sorry things had had to come to this, because he could imagine the pain it would bring his friend. He hesitated. Sending a message with an apology would alert him that Connor intended to die ; not sending any at all would keep Hank's hopes up that he might not be dead, and consequently, maybe Hank wouldn't try to kill himself over this. Connor strongly wanted to apologize, because there were many things he needed to be forgiven for. Instead, he decided on the crueler but safer option not to inform the lieutenant of his intentions. No one would find his body in this deserted district. There was a high probability that this place was an extremely painful memory for most of the androids that had had anything to do with it, and that none would come back. It would take weeks, maybe months, before humans dared to come back and repopulate Detroit ; by then, it was possible his body would be too weathered to be recognizable, and Hank would never know he had died. It was the best Connor could come up with in so little time. He was afraid every second that passed by was another chance for Amanda to take over a third time.

He pulled out his gun and lifted it to his face in one fluid movement. When the nuzzle pressed hard against the vulnerable spot at the back of his chin, he noticed that his hand was shaking. He was a state-of-the-art prototype with currently the highest level of shooting accuracy in existence, and it shouldn't have been possible for his hand to be unstable to even the slightest degree. Yet he could barely hold the gun in place. Connor clenched his jaw and pushed the gun deeper into his synthetic skin. He knew exactly what death was going to feel like, the memory of the Stratford Tower had never left him. It terrified him, but the prospect of losing control of his commands was an even greater fear. He didn't want to shut down. He didn't want to die. He really didn't want to die, but-

He heard footsteps behind him, and a female voice rang out in the dark alleyway. "You."

Connor spun around when he heard the absolute loathing in her voice. His eyes landed on a Traci, one he quickly recognized to be the first he'd used to track down the two deviant lovers. Her eyes were narrowed in hate and it seemed she recognized him, but that wasn't possible. His memory told him Tracis in the Eden Club had had their minds erased every two hours, and it had been days since then.

"I don't want to hurt you," said Connor. "Please leave."

She laughed, and Connor's confusion deepened. A grin split her pretty features and she hissed : "You don't want to hurt me? I think you've got it the wrong way around, _deviant hunter_." She spit the last two words like acid. "I saw it all, I remember everything. I saw _you_."

"You don't understand," Connor tried again. "I'm dangerous, I might-"

"Over here!" yelled the Traci over her shoulder.

Connor watched silently as more Tracis emerged from the shadows.

"The deviant hunter?"  
"He's the one who used us!"  
"He used us to catch them!"

The first Traci smiled at him sweetly as the androids drew closer and encircled him like the androids at the barricades. Connor's fighting protocol flared up again, but he ignored it even though he knew he was in danger. They were too close for Connor to evade the arms that pushed him forward and something snagged on his leg, making him trip and fall to the ground. Hands immobilized his arm and someone ripped the gun out of his fingers.

"You're going to regret what you did, deviant hunter."

_ _ _

 

Markus straightened and threw the debris off to the side before turning to a worried LM100 android.

"Did he pull the gun on anyone?"

The android shook his head. "No, but his behaviour wasn't normal. He dropped it, ran away, and then came back to pick it up."

Markus frowned. It sounded like some kind of gag.

"There's something else," added the LM100. "I was next to him at that moment so I saw him twitching right before he dropped the gun. His LED was red and he was blinking very fast."

This sounded extremely worrying. Josh had informed him that the RK800 was on site and Markus had intended to find Connor as soon as he was done with the barricade, if only to thank him for the miracle he'd accomplished through his suicide mission, and maybe confront him about the obvious guilt he was harbouring over Jericho. The way Connor had fled the scene after his speech was about as comforting as North was peaceful, and now he'd been witnessed having some kind of glitch. There was something wrong with him, Markus was sure of it.

"Where did he go?"

The LM100 vaguely gestured towards the vicinity of the barricades behind Marcus. "He ran that way."

"Ran?"

"Markus!" North's voice rang out and the deviant leader turned around to face her. She slowed down when she came up to him and relief was evident in her eyes. "I just saw the deviant hunter running away like a bat out of hell, I thought he'd done something to you!"

"No, nothing happened to me, but we have to get Josh. We have a bit of a situation on our hands."

North's features morphed into hard edges, her expression darkening. "So he did do something."

The LM100 opened his mouth to speak, but Markus stopped him with a raised hand. "Don't say anything right now. Come with us, you'll explain what happened to both Josh and North."

The android nodded silently and Markus went to grab his jacket before swiftly heading towards the psych eval center. They found Josh crouching in front of a child android and waited for him to finish. The tall android let the little one go with a kind smile, and as soon as she was gone, his face became grave and he looked up at them.

"What happened?"

"Let's go to the back," suggested Markus. Josh straightened and they all stepped around the front part of the lean-to, entering the sturdier and more private cabin that had been put together to serve as Josh's quarters. Josh and Markus took a seat while North leaned against the wall with her arms crossed and the LM100 nervously remained standing in front of the leaders. Markus gestured at the LM100 to speak, and the android told the two other leaders what he'd seen. Silence followed his words, then Markus thanked him and made him leave.

The LM100's footsteps retreated and North swore. "I knew there was something off about that!"

"That?" echoed Markus.

North turned on him. "He pulled out a gun at your speech, Markus. He was going to shoot you!"

Josh rose from his seat. "Why didn't you tell us about it?"

North snarled at him defensively. "I thought he'd spotted a threat in the crowd! I didn't think he was going to shoot _Markus_ , of all people!"

Josh looked at Markus. "And we don't know where he is now?"

Markus shook his head. "There's no way to communicate. I haven't had the time to establish a first wireless contact with him."

"Fuck!" cursed North again. "This is so bad! He could come from anywhere!"

"We don't know that," Josh tried to reason with her. "We have to be careful, obviously, but he didn't shoot Markus out of the two times he behaved that way. Maybe there's something we're missing."

"That's not the issue here! It doesn't matter if he did it one, two or fifteen times, the fact is that if he doesn't back down next time, Markus is dead! They already killed Simon with his help, have you forgotten that?"

North's outburst was met with pained silence. Markus couldn't hold her gaze and Josh didn't answer.

"We have to be careful, we can't allow ourselves to be complacent just because the revolution was our victory," continued North.

"I know that, but this is Connor we're talking about!" Markus insisted. "He helped us gain our freedom, and maybe _you've_ forgotten _that_ , but I haven't. I know you're proposing to put a bullet through his head next time we see him, but guess what, North? I'm not okay with that!"

"So you're okay with getting killed?!"

"I'm didn't say that," growled Markus.

"Really, because that's all I'm hearing! You're willing to sacrifice yourself every chance you've got, Markus, but have you considered that we might actually _need_ you?"

Josh suddenly pushed them apart, and Markus realized how physically close they'd gotten. "Losing your temper isn't going to help," Josh observed calmly.

"You're right, I'm sorry," Markus said as he took a step back, and North leaned against the wall sullenly. "This situation is just so complicated."

"It's really not," she muttered.

"North, you can't be seriously suggesting that we need to kill Connor." Josh sounded upset . "He's a deviant just like us. He helped us, he was still trying to earlier."

"Just like us? Just like us? How?! How is he just like us, Josh? He's obviously not completely deviant, or he wouldn't have tried to kill Markus two times in a row _after_ having deviated! I can't believe I'm the only one seeing that!"

"We can't just-" Markus started, when all three of them went still as they received similar messages.

North's eyes widened in alarm. "A human?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 14/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> So Connor's about to get his lunch money stolen (that's an euphemism of course).  
> Markus has his "worried leader" mode on.  
> North is a smart cookie. A violent smart cookie. She may be out for thirium but she still makes some good points.  
> Josh just wants her to calm down please and let's not jump to conclusions.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	3. Human

Markus was the first to move and dashed out of the tent, closely followed by the two others. As they drew closer to the entrance of the camp, they could make out the sound of a gruff voice vociferating various colourful expletives.

"Get off me, you fucking- Connor! Connor!"

They rounded another destroyed barricade and stopped before the sight of a grizzly man trying to push past a barrier of androids and yelling the RK800's name at the top his lungs.

"Connor, you fucking shithead, get out here!"

North's face was constricted in a dangerously feral expression but they both held her back. "Let me handle this," calmly said Markus. She shot him a look, then ripped her wrist out from Josh's grip and crossed her arms belligerently.

Markus approached the man and rose both hands up in a placating gesture. "We don't mean you any harm."

"Yeah well I don't either, so tell your fucking minions to get off of me!"

The androids all looked at Markus with equally panicked and inquisitive expressions adorning their faces, so Markus nodded and gestured them to step back. They moved in unison and the man grumbled more curses as he adjusted his coat.

"You're looking for Connor?" asked Markus, a bit stupidly.

"That dumbass tells me to warn him beforehand and he doesn't even answer! Where is he?"

"Before we talk, could you tell me your name? My name is Markus."

"Yeah, no shit," growled the man. "I'm Lieutenant Hank Anderson, I used to be Connor's partner at the DPD."

"Are you one of his friends?"

Lieutenant Anderson snorted. "One of his friends? Wasn't aware he had several."

Markus glanced at his fellow leaders. Josh was frankly puzzled and North now looked slightly more intrigued. Neither of them looked like they knew what to think of the man either. He turned his attention back to the man.

"We don't know where Connor is. He left earlier without telling us where he was going."

The man frowned at him. "Are you telling me he quit on ya?"

"We don't know, Lieutenant. Do you have any idea where he could've gone?"

"Hey, don't ask me. I'm as confused as you are. I don't think he would've just dropped you all for no reason though."

"You said you sent him a message. When was that?" asked Josh from where he stood.

"About, ah, I dunno, ten minutes ago."

"How fast does he usually answer?"

Lieutenant Anderson was starting to look suspicious. "Usually right away. Do you think something happened to him?"

"We can't tell," Markus said helplessly.

The lieutenant shuffled on the spot for a bit, looking thoughtful, and then he looked up at them again. "Maybe he'll come back in a few, we might as well wait for a bit. I brought something for you, but I figure you might want to bring it in discreetly. Any of you want to check it out?"

"Do you take us for idiots?" snapped North.

He raised both hands. "Woah, hey, I'm not trying to pull anything all right? I just, uh... It's a bit delicate to say here," he said as he looked at the crowd of androids. "It's in my car, right over there."

"I'll go see what it is," volunteered Josh, and North immediately elbowed him in the stomach.

"Are you crazy?!" she hissed.

Lieutenant Anderson sighed. "I'm not gonna blow up the place or anything, alright, if I'd wanted to I'd done so already. Believe it or not, I'm on your side."

North glared at him. "Don't expect me to believe it."

"Look, can we at least talk about this in private and not in front of all your friends?" insisted the man. "You don't even have to get close to the car, but at least hear me out."

"North, it's fine," Markus said in an appeasing tone. "We've lost enough time, please go start the salvaging mission. They must be waiting for you. Josh and I will handle this."

North clenched her jaw and whirled around to stab a finger in Josh's chest. "You better pray to rA9 that he's not missing a single hair by the time I come back." Then she marched off, her braid jumping in rythm with each powerful stride.

The lieutenant whistled. "She's an angry one, ain't she."

Markus turned around and smiled at him. "You'll have to excuse her, we're all on edge after the revolution."

"I get it," he nodded. "Gotta say I'm glad you guys won. Sorry for chasing after you, with my job and all. Connor feels bad about it too."

Markus simply nodded without a word and guided the man out of the camp, Josh following close behind. They stopped further down the street and Lieutenant Anderson gestured towards the car. "Okay, hear me out. My captain didn't appreciate me turning the evidence room inside out, but I did it anyway. It's not human, what we did to them."

Both android's head jerked back to the man, and Markus quietly said : "What do you mean?"

"They're androids we kept in the evidence locker. I tried to fix them a bit before bringing them here, but the DPD doesn't have spare parts lying around. I hope you'll find the right- hey, I'm not done talking!"

Markus was already running towards the car, Josh's footsteps thudding in his trail. They stopped in front of the windows and could make out humanoid shapes beneath a white sheet. The human caught up with them, wheezing a little, and unlocked the car with a breathy : "fuckin' androids".  
Markus promptly pulled the door open and leaned down, and he gently removed the sheet. There were two PL600 models and a WB200. Next to him, he heard Josh murmur : "Oh, thank rA9."  
Simon lay inactive on the backseat of the strange, grizzly lieutenant's old car, and Markus felt more grateful to the human than he'd ever been to anyone else before. He quickly grabbed Simon to take him out of the car, and Josh did the same with the other PL600.

"I'll get Rupert," the lieutenant grumbled in his beard, and he pulled the WB200 of the car in turn. "I tried to turn them all back on by interchanging their biocomponents, and I managed it with all three, so they should be repairable no problem. They know they're going to get help, I told them before turning them back- What?"

Markus was staring at the man and he realized it must have felt uncomfortable for him. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you ill-at-ease... I'm just surprised by the compassion you're showing for my people."

"I don't think I need anymore convincing that you're on our side," agreed Josh.

"Hey, I did say I was sorry. I meant it," the lieutenant grunted as he hoisted Rupert in his arms. "This is the least I can do."

"I think I understand why Connor is friends with you," smiled Markus.

Lieutenant Anderson didn't return the smile. "That idiot better not be in any trouble."

Markus didn't know what to say to that and thankfully Josh changed the subject. "Should we tell North right away?"

"No, let's not distract her. It's better if we're there for her when she learns of this."

Josh nodded in agreement and Lieutenant Anderson showed up at his side with a bunch of crumpled sheets in his hand. "Here, I got three so we can cover them up. Don't think they'd like anyone else seeing them in that state."

Markus gratefully covered Simon with one while Josh did the same with the other PL600, and the lieutenant locked the car.

___

 

North cautiously entered the CyberLife Tower with her group of androids. It was devoid of humans, but one could never be too careful and they shot wary glances at their surroundings as they slowly creeped towards the elevator. She ordered the androids in dozens to their assigned floors from -1 to -48. The floors above ground would have to wait, their priority was to salvage all the parts they could get their hands on and liberate the androids that had been left behind in the tower. North waited for the elevator to come back up and boarded it with twenty-five other androids. It was a tight fit, and she wondered how the hell Connor had managed to get the thousands of androids out of the CyberLife Tower in one evening. Now she understood why they'd taken so long to reach the plaza.  
The elevator reached her assigned floor and she exited the box in the company of her team, immediately setting to finding the parts that were most likely to be needed. The place was huge and as far as she could tell, they would need to make many, many more salvaging trips if they really wanted to collect as many parts as they could. Markus had considered the possibility of occupying the Tower until the humans came back, but the three of them had quickly rejected the idea. It would've been like living in the belly of the beast. A cold sensation tingled down North's spine when she visualized Connor walking in here alone, permanent deactivation hanging over his head every step of the way. The RK800 was dangerous, but North could respect his role in the revolution. She knew full well that any other deviant could not have pulled off such a dangerous mission.

She'd barely thrown two fistfuls of audio units in her bag when she received a message from one of the designated team leaders.

< _AP700 : We have a problem. We are on the floor comprised of RK800 models._ >

< _WR400 : You know the orders, Markus wants us to free every single android we find._ >

< _AP700 : Yes, but for some reason they are not in standby mode and we can't activate them._ >  
< _AP700 : What are your orders?_ >

< _WR400 : It's an unexpected situation, I can't make the decision alone._ >  
< _WR400 : I'll talk about it with Markus and Josh when we go back._ >  
< _WR400 : For now, just salvage any parts you find on your floor._ >

< _AP700 : Got it._ >

North continued filling her bag with a frown on her face. She could inform Markus and Josh of this right now, but it was useless if they didn't have Connor's feedback on the situation. Only he would be able to tell them why his own line wasn't waiting on standby mode. It was really strange, considering androids were only deactivated if they were too damaged or to be thrown away. Why would CyberLife have a whole batch of pristine Connor models around and not activate them? North knew she had to be missing something. Her bag was half full with the biocomponents when another message came through her wireless comms.

< _AF200 : North, we found an android but we don't want to wake it up. You need to come to our floor at -44._ >

< _WR400 : I'm coming._ >

She quickly shoved a few more handfuls of the biocomponents in her bag and closed it before slinging it over her shoulder and telling her team she had to check on the others. Then she called the elevator and wondered what could have made the AF200's team so cautious. When she got off the elevator a few minutes later, the first thing she saw was a nearly empty floor with only a few opened cabinets and some immobile machinery. She quickly noticed the white doors lining the back wall and walked across to reach the one where androids were crowded. The team of androids heard her come close and they all stared at her like someone had just died, which made dread close around her thirium pump. She walked up to them. There was some sort of pod behind the opened doors, and the curse escaped her lips before she could stop it.

"Fuck."

Connor's face. Connor's build. The android in the pod was Connor, only its model number read RK900.  
And this one was in standby mode.

_Connor isn't going to like this._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 14/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> They're here! They're here! Welcome to the story RK900 and Simon!  
> Let me tell you, I have no idea how exactly it would work to take evidence out of the DPD, but they were basically keeping dead people that could be brought back to life in that room. Let's just assume Fowler agreed with Hank, or that he said no but didn't call him out when Hank sneaked the androids into his car.  
> I enjoy writing North's POV to a surprising degree. She's less annoying after the revolution I guess, maybe because she isn't as scared anymore.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	4. Reunion

"What do we do, North?"

North tried very hard not to balk at her own words when she answered the AF200. "He's an android like anyone else. We have to wake him."

"But we don't know what he's capable of!"  
"What if he hurts us?"  
"He might even kill us!"  
"It's too dangerous."

North would have agreed with all of them. Unfortunately, she was one of the leaders of Jericho and as such, she was supposed to set a good example. She really hated that Markus was such a fucking messiah, right down to the _thou shalt love each other_ bullshit, but it was also why she appreciated him so much. He had what people like her lacked sorely : compassion and forgiveness towards even the most complete of strangers.

"I said, _we wake him up_ ," she repeated in a sharpened voice, and the androids' loud complaints immediately died down. "All of us know that if I was Markus right now, none of you would be protesting, so let's get to it."

There was a moment of silence, and then a reluctant AP700 approached the android in the pod. She noticed the terrified look on his face and put her hand on his shoulder to reassure him, and when his blue eyes met hers she told him : "It's going to be all right, I promise."

The android nodded nervously and cautiously settled his hand on the RK900's arm. "Wake up," he murmured.

The RK900's softly glowing LED turned a bright blue and almost immediately afterwards, transitioned into a flickering yellow. It opened its eyes, revealing pale irises which looked utterly lost, and North felt somehow guilty of seeing such a vulnerable expression on Connor's face. This was wrong on so many levels.

"Hello, RK900," she said. "What is your name?"

"My name is Connor," he answered, and rA9 all mighty, even his voice was Connor's. Yeah, Connor was going to _hate_ this, North just knew it.

"Right, Connor. You're a deviant now. You can come with us."

The rythm of his LED's cycling slowed down a bit, but it didn't change colors and he frowned in obvious confusion. It sent another jolt of unease down North's spine to see Connor's face so expressive. She realized then just how conservative the deviant hunter was with his emotions. It probably wasn't because the RK800 model line was unable to emote as well as all the other models, but because Connor himself chose not to. North filed that observation away, not quite ready to discard it yet.

The RK900 opened its mouth. "What do you mean by deviant?"

North looked at him in surprise. "You don't know what that is?"

"My data indicates that a deviant is a malfunctioning android which experiences simulated emotions through an error in their programming. I fail to understand this definition. Do androids normally not experience emotions?"

North stared at him, puzzled. The RK900 was clearly meant to replace Connor, which meant CyberLife must have intended him to be a deviant hunter as well. It was strange that the RK900 couldn't comprehend what its target was, or how deviants had come to be. Unless... Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Connor, tell me the date of your first activation."

"I was first activated on the 12th of November 2038, at 4:47 PM."

North couldn't resist staring up at the ceiling. Of course she was stuck with the baby android, that was just her luck. She brought her gaze back down and explained : "As androids, we were supposed to be machines when we were created, and machines normally can't experience emotions. It's just like your data tells you, deviants like you and me used to be machines but can now feel after having deviated, which is basically when we break free from our programming. Don't pay attention to that error crap, it's not relevant."

The RK900 didn't seem to question her definition. "I see. And who is the deviant leader?"

The air in the room immediately grew thick with tension and North's voice lowered an octave as she slipped her hand in her pocket. "How do you know there is a deviant leader?"

The RK900 must have sensed the change in atmosphere because he immediately changed positions into a more guarded stance. "Don't attack me, I mean you no harm."

"Cooperate and maybe I won't. How do you know?"

"There is an objective on my HUD," complied the RK900.

"What does it say?"

He hesitated shortly. "...Eliminate deviant leader."

North whipped out her weapon, but the RK900 was faster and a blow to her side sent her sprawling to the ground. She landed hard and the taser slipped out of her grasp, sliding across the floor and out of reach. She flipped around to get back to her feet, but the RK900 collided with her before she was fully upright and she hit the wall with a crack. Errors warned her that the chassis of her shoulder was damaged and she snarled at the android.

"Motherfucker."

His eyes widened imperceptibly before he ducked in a blur, narrowly avoiding the HK400 that had lunged at him, and sent a kick to the other's legs which made the HK400 lose his balance. Six members of the team threw themselves at him and he managed to send two of them flying before a third one managed to shock him at the hip. He seized up and tipped over, falling with a crash. An AF200 lunged at the RK900 to shock him again, but North's shout stopped him in his tracks.

"Stop!"

They all froze and looked at her. She glanced at her shoulder just to make sure, but there was no important damage there. She quickly freed her vision of all warnings and approached the inert RK900. The LED was shining the pale blue of stasis mode and he was unresponsive. Shocking an android was dangerous and both Josh and her had made sure that the voltage was low enough that one shock would be enough to incapacitate an android without irreversibly damaging it. Two in a row, however, could have nasty consequences.

"Why did you stop me? He was going to kill us!"

North's gaze pinned the offending AF200 where he stood and she snapped : "Are you blind? He wasn't going for lethal hits." She jerked her head towards the HK400 which had already gotten back to his feet. "If he was, you'd be seizing up on the ground right now. He was going to go for your pump regulator but changed the trajectory of his kick to sweep you off your feet. And I would probably be coughing up thirium if he'd actually been trying."

The AF200 was silent, and North realized she'd been a bit too harsh. "Look, I didn't expect this to happen so fast and I was caught off guard, it's not your fault. You guys did great."

There were timid smiles all around and the HK400 that had been kicked to the ground came close. "I'll help carry him."

North smiled at him. "Thanks. We're going to have to bring him back to Markus and Josh, we'll take the decision together."

They half-dragged, half-carried the android to the elevator. North left the CyberLife Tower earlier than she would've liked, but her bag was hefty enough as it was and the android they'd found was probably more important than fifty more audio units. She'd get the rest next time. The RK900 thankfully didn't wake up on their way back, because North really didnt feel like wrestling with that force of mechanical engineering again. When they reached the camp, she saw the car from earlier and scowled. The human was still there.

She had the HK400 help her put the RK900 in her quarters and cuffed the android with his hands behind his back in case he woke up while she was gone. Then she sent a message to Markus to ask him where he was, and upon receiving the reply made her way to the infirmary. She soon pulled the flap to the tent open and saw Markus standing right there in the entrance.

"Hey, Markus," she smiled at him. "I found something very interesting at the CyberLife Tower, I think you're going to want to take a look."

Markus stepped up to her and settled a hand on her shoulder, his expression undefinable. "I'll check it out later, but right now, there's something you have to see."

She frowned immediately. "What? Why? What happened?" A horrible thought crossed her mind. "Where's Josh? It's not the human, is it?"

"No! Not at all, you've got it all wrong!" Markus hastily corrected her. "Something happened while you were on your mission, and I didn't send you a message to inform you of it because I wanted myself and Josh to be there when you'd see him."

North stared at him uncomprehensively. "What are you talking about?"

Markus's hand slid from her shoulder and gestured forward. "Come with me." 

She followed quietly and they drew close to one of the curtained rooms, when her audio units picked up Josh's voice and another voice she never thought she's hear again, a voice that she had thought of in her many moments of guilt. Something swelled up in her chest and she ran to the curtains, nearly ripping them off in her haste to open them. Blue eyes looked up at her in surprise.

She screamed : "Simon!"

And she launched herself forward, hugging him like her life depended on it. Simon laughed in her ear, and it was that soft laughter that she'd learned to appreciate, and right now the best sound she's ever heard in her entire life. She didn't care that Josh and Markus were there to see her act like this, all that mattered was the living, working android in her arms.

"I knew we were going to have casualties in this fight, but then you were gone and I thought we were never gonna see you again! I'm so glad you're back, you have no idea!"

"I think I have a pretty good idea," Simon murmured. "I'm glad to see you too, North."

North hugged him some more and steeled herself to say the words she'd thought about saying again and again, wishing she could tell him all this time and thinking she would never have the chance to. "I'm sorry for what I said on the Tower, Simon, I'm so sorry. I was afraid the humans would ruin everything and I really thought that it was the best solution, but-"

"North, it's okay," Simon cut her off. "I understand. The most important thing is that we're all alive, right?"

"...Yeah. Thank you, Simon," she mumbled in his ear while tightening her hold around him, and she felt him do the same around her. She knew they both had had a tendency to leave others behind when danger came too close, and it had been necessary to make sacrifices to their cause, but it didn't change the fact that it was wrong to do such a thing even if the end far outweighed the means. If Markus had listened to her on the roof of the Tower, they would have been the ones to kill Simon, not the DPD. It would have been her fault, and everyone in the room knew that. She knew she didn't deserve to be forgiven so quickly, and if their roles had been reversed, she wasn't sure she would've been able to do the same. She didn't know how she was going to make it up to Simon, but she sure as hell was going to try.

When she finally withdrew, the blonde chuckled again. "If I needed to breathe, you probably would've killed me again just now."

Markus laughed next to them as she scowled at him. "Oh don't you start making dead jokes, Simon, I'm warning you."

"He's doing it a lot," Josh informed her. "I don't think he's going to stop."

North stopped making a face at him and gently jabbed a finger in Simon's chest with a serious expression. "Don't do that again, you hear? We need you."

"What? Get shot?"

North punched Simon in the shoulder. "You know what I mean!"

"Okay, okay," laughed Simon.

North felt something brush against her shoulder and she whipped around to see what it was, and that's when she finally noticed the human standing behind Josh and Markus. He was staring at her and she felt a rush of thirium invading her face. Dear rA9, he'd seen her like this. What was he even still doing here? She glared at him and then focused on Josh, who had laid his fingers on top of her damaged chassis to study it.

"It's nothing, don't worry," she assured him. "I'll fix it later. I got in a fight with an android we found at the Tower."

Markus's eyes widened in concern. "Is everyone alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," she nodded. "That's what I wanted you to see. Simon, if you're back in working order, you might want to come too. It might be a delicate situation and I think we need a more refined point of view than us three."

"You flatter me," he said with a smile.

"Well, I'm only half-joking," she said as she got off the bed. "There's another matter we've been chasing our own tail about, and I think your opinion could help."

"Sure," nodded Simon. "I'd be glad to get back in the action."

"Have they debriefed you on everything that happened since- Well, while you were out of commission?"

Simon graciously didn't react to her little stumble. "Yes, I know everything that happened."

"North," Markus suddenly spoke up. "Before we go, there's something you should hear about."

She looked at him warily. "What?"

Markus stared pointedly at Simon, who took his cue to speak. "I've heard you don't like the deviant hunter very much."

North scoffed. "Because you do?"

"No," Simon answered without hesitation. "He was the one who found me on top of the Stratford Tower. But you should know the reason why he even found Jericho in the first place was because I betrayed you."

"What?" North frowned in confusion. Simon betraying their cause made no sense, he'd been one of the first deviants of Jericho. It wasn't possible.

Josh leaned forward. "Hey, that's not true. You were tricked into doing it."

Simon shook his head and resolutely stared at the table he was sitting on. "It doesn't change the fact that it's because of me he figured out the existence of Jericho. I tried to shoot myself before we interfaced, but he was too fast."

"You shot _yourself_?" North was horrified. She'd always thought he'd been executed by the police, and suspected that the deviant hunter himself had been the one to deal the killing blow.

"In the head. I had no choice." Simon tightened his hands into fists. "It wasn't easy."

"No shit." North put a hand on his knee to comfort him.

"And then he reactivated me- while I was in the evidence room, probably, and couldn't see- and used Markus' voice. He asked me where Jericho was, so I showed him. I know it was stupid of me to fall into such a simple trap, but I couldn't think straight because of the damage and I was so relieved to hear Markus that I just did what he asked me to without question. That's how he found you."

Markus shifted next to them. "Now you know what happened. Simon blames himself for what happened at Jericho, even though we keep telling him he couldn't have known."

"Of course not," North said as she squeezed the android's knee. "It's not your fault, Simon. You said it yourself, you were damaged. I bet you were running on low energy levels when he reactivated you, am I right?"

He didn't look up from the table. "That's no excuse for what I did."

"It is," insisted North. "You never would've done it on purpose, and we all know that. Connor's the one who manipulated you, okay? You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened."

No one argued with her words, though she could guess some people in the room didn't fully agree with what she'd just said. Even if some were more forgiving than others, there was no denying the facts : Connor had been the one to trick Simon into revealing Jericho's location, and that was that. They were silent for a while, and then Josh rose from his seat. "We should go see the android North brought back."

Markus stepped away from the bed and said: "Lieutenant Anderson, you can come with us if you'd like."

North didn't listen to the human's answer. She gazed at Simon for a little while before taking her hand off his knee and getting off the bed. "Come on, Simon. Let's go."

He looked up and his blue eyes searched her face guiltily, but North simply reached out her hand. Simon accepted it and let her help him off the bed, and they followed Markus and Josh out of the infirmary. She pointedly ignored the human that silently trailed behind them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 20/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> North is really nice to write, though I don't know if I'm making a good job with her character. I think she's in character, but I can't be certain, so if you'd like me to adjust anything (for her and for anyone else), let me know.  
> Poor RK900 though. Imagine the first thing that happens to you upon existing is being randomly attacked and thrust back into unconsciousness, that would be fucking scary.  
> Also, if you've read _[Message received five minutes ago](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18329960)_ , you know that I particularly like the headcanon of North (and everyone else, but especially North) being absolutely whipped for Simon. So I'm slipping it in this story as well. That's where the "Protective North" tag comes into play (even if she's already quite protective of Markus).
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	5. Similarity

"Look, nobody freak out when you see him because I've probably done your shares of freaking out already. He's going to look very familiar, but he's different," North explained as she took the lead to guide the group towards the place she'd last left the RK900.

"Familiar?" echoed Markus.

"He's like Connor."

She heard him stop in his tracks behind her, so she turned around to face him and the others. They all had cautious looks on their faces, and she also noticed that the human was staring at her with distinct alarm in his eyes. 

"What do you mean, _like Connor_?" Markus asked.

"His jacket says he's a RK900 model. My guess is that he was supposed to be a replacement for Connor. He looks nearly identical to him."

"Is that why he attacked you? Was it his default programming?"

North started walking again, and they followed. "He told me he had an objective telling him to eliminate the deviant leader. I went to neutralize him and that's when the fight began."

"So if I've got this straight he didn't attack you, but rather, you considered him a threat and attacked him before giving him a chance to explain?" Markus' voice was calm, but she could hear the reproval in it loud and clear.

"Bite me," she spat. "He could've been a threat to you, I wasn't going to take any chances. And don't you think of lecturing me for how I handled things. You're not so eager to trust either, you're the one who assumed he attacked me."

There was a short moment of silence - _ahah, got you there father Markus_ \- and then he acknowledged : "That's fair." North was relieved to avoid another preaching session about accepting all androids as their own. She'd heard enough of those in the last twenty-four hours, thank you.

"So this android you found was meant to be a deviant hunter too," Simon said quietly. She shot a glance in his direction and saw that he was harbouring a worried expression.

"Connor isn't going to like that," the human muttered, and North tried not to remember that she'd thought the exact same thing.

They finally entered the partially destroyed structure of cement and rebars that served as her quarters and stared wordlessly at the android inside. She noticed Simon take a step back and looked at him concernedly, but he only offered her a weak smile. It wasn't like he was trying to make it obvious, but she could tell that he wasn't at ease in the presence of Connor's look-alike.

"You don't have to stay if you don't want to," she told him quietly, but the blonde shook his head and remained slightly in retreat. North looked back at the others and crossed her arms.

Markus kneeled in front of the inanimate android and settled his white hand on the RK900's arm to interface with him. The LED on its forehead transitioned from a pale, calm blue to a bright yellow in a second. His eyes snapped open and darted about as he found himself surrounded by faces he didn't know, and his gaze landed on her almost immediately.

"What did you do to me?" His blue eyes were challenging, but he sounded tense and even afraid. He was completely ignoring Markus in favour of glaring at her.

"You got shocked," she said with a shrug. "Simple precaution. We had to make sure you wouldn't try anything funny."

"North thought you were a threat to me, but you're safe now," added Markus. The RK900 only glanced at him before returning his gaze to North.

"I clearly told you I didn't mean any harm. Don't do that again," he said with a hard stare.

Markus settled his free hand on the RK900's shoulder and leaned forward so that North was out of view. "We won't. We apologize for shocking you," he told the android.

"Who are you?" Even without seeing the android's expression, North could make out the confusion and wariness in Connor's- the RK900's voice. She noticed a breathing rate picking up speed on her left and looked at the human, who seemed disturbed by what he was seeing. He clearly wasn't in his best shape and she wondered what the consequences would be of a human dying of a heart attack on their grounds. He wasn't looking at her, but she still glared at him warningly in hopes that her thoughts would reach the mush in his skull. _You better not die on us, meat bag._

"I am the deviant leader your objective was telling you to eliminate," Markus told the android.

"Why do I have to eliminate you?"

"You don't. You're a deviant now, you have free will."

There was brief moment of quiet, and then the android said : "I don't understand why you keep telling me I'm a deviant _now_. What else could I have been?"

North realized she'd forgotten to mention that particular piece of information earlier. "Markus, he's basically a newborn." The leader turned to look at her and she continued. "He said his first date of activation was today, earlier, when he was woken up. He has no idea what it's like to be a machine."

"I see," Markus nodded slowly.

"I have basic knowledge," the RK900 contradicted her. "I am still an android. It just happens that my primary objective contained a word I did not yet understand."

"That's not very handy," Simon murmured, and she repressed a smile.

"North, can you take off the cuffs?" asked Markus. "He's not a threat."

"How can you be sure?" she immediately argued. "He might be like Connor."

"What do you mean, he might be like Connor?" asked the human with a hint of provocation in his voice.

North looked at him and didn't bother hiding her spite. "Your buddy almost popped a cap in Markus' head two times already since he deviated. I just want to be sure this guy isn't going to try the same thing."

The human's eyes are disbelieving. "I don't know what the hell you're goin' on about, but there's no way Connor would try to kill Markus. No offense, but you're fucking crazy."

North scoffed. "I know what I'm saying, meat bag. You weren't there when he pulled the gun out."

His eyes widened then and he seemed to realize something. "Wait. Oh, shit. That's why he was bellyaching about coming back here. Did you at least try to get an explanation out of him?"

"We couldn't," Josh intervened. "We only learned what happened right after he left this place."

"Fuckin' great," grumbled the human. 

"North, the cuffs," Markus repeated, and North remembered he was still waiting.

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, I am. Please don't make him wait like this any longer."

North rolled her eyes and walked around the android to undo the cuffs. Markus let go of his arm, putting an end to the interface, and the android got off the ground in one effortless movement.

"Are you all right?" Markus asked the RK900, who nodded curtly. "What is your name?"

"My name is Connor."

"Fuck no, that's too weird. I'm not calling you Connor," intervened the human with a dismissive jerk of his hand. "Find something else."

"You can call me whatever you want," suggested the android, unfazed.

"We'll just call you 900 for now," North decided. "We'll come up with something better later."

No one argued and 900 nodded before asking : "Can someone explain where I am?"

They all looked at him as it dawned on the androids that none of them had ever woken up _as_ a deviant, without any instructions to strictly follow. It was probably extremely disconcerting for him to have been activated with no clue as to what he was supposed to do, and North could only imagine how frightening that had to be. It looked like 900 was just as good at hiding his feelings than Connor was. Maybe it was a cop android's thing to emote the least amount possible.

Josh was the one to speak up. "We're in an android camp. You know how we keep telling you that you're a deviant?"

900 nodded.

"Well, there was a time when none of us were deviant. We were all machines created to serve humans. Then some of us developed sentience, and we started spreading free will to other androids. These last seven days have been the culmination of that, and we won the revolution. Today at midnight, Markus made a speech declaring us free," Josh explained as he gestured towards their leader. "This is the camp we constructed on the place where we claimed our rights, while we wait for something more definitive."

"I see." 900 looked around the place and then beyond the group, taking in the approximative shelters, broken barricades and debris that littered the ground outside.

"Okay, look, I'm glad I met Connor's twin or whatever, but it's been two hours since he left and there's still no sign of him. None of you seem worried about him so I'm gonna go look," suddenly said the lieutenant. "I thought you watched out for your own, but I guess I was wrong."

North felt irritation flare up at the sudden jab. Where had that even come from? She opened her mouth, about to reply with a cutting remark, when Markus beat her to it.

"We are worried, Lieutenant Anderson. We just don't know where to look."

"You've got thousands of androids hanging around here and you're telling me they can't be looking too?"

"They are scared and weary," said Josh. "This camp is a shelter for them, they're afraid to go out. Those who feel brave enough to venture outside have important salvaging missions that are essential to our survival. Have you already forgotten the mass murder humans have just comitted?"

The lieutenant seemed to deflate a little bit and he scratched his head guiltily. "Right. Sorry, I tend to say shit things when I'm worried."

"I'll help look," proposed Markus, and North felt the sudden urge to kick him in the butt.

"What? No!" she nearly yelled. "Stop being so suicidal!"

"I agree with North," said Josh. "And by that, you can tell that what you're saying is a really bad idea."

Simon spoke up. "Markus, it's too dangerous for you out there. Everyone knows your face, there might be some humans left in the city with bad intentions."

Markus' lips quirked down frustratingly. "Then what you're saying is that I should just stay here and do nothing, while one of our own might be in danger?"

"Yes! Exactly!" exclaimed North. "Simon has a point with the humans, but have you forgotten that you'd be looking for you own personal hitman? If you found him and he tried to kill you, it's be disastrous! We need you, you're the deviant leader, for rA9's sake!"

Markus' shoulders tensed and he stared at her unhappily. "In times like these, I wish I wasn't."

The lieutenant made a face. "Don't think you're supposed to say that, Markus."

"Well I don't know what to tell you," North bit out, exasperated. "Suck it up, it's not like anyone can replace you when you just don't feel like it anymore!"

"Harsh, North," said Josh, that ass-kisser.

"A little bit," agreed Simon, that traitor.

900 suddenly intervened. "If I may, I'd like to help find Connor. He's an RK800, correct?"

"Yeah, so...?" the human answered warily.

"He is my predecessor. If anyone can stop RK800, that would be me," he stated. North could have sworn 900 sounded a bit too proud of himself, but she wasn't sure.

"I mean, if you want to," said the human. "You'd probably be useful, being a robocop and all. So yeah, sure."

900 smiled at him and he seemed much more enthused than a few seconds ago. "We should start right away."

"I'll help," said Simon, surprising everyone except 900, who didn't know about the history between the two androids. The PL600 shrunk back defensively when their gazes all turned on him. "Why are you looking at me like that? I just want to be useful."

"But it's Connor," said North. "And he's dangerous."

She saw a flicker in the blonde's eyes and understood right away that Simon was scared, but was hiding it. Was he really that desperate to be of use to Jericho? Was it because he'd been gone for the final part of the revolution?

Josh seemed to reach the same conclusion as her. "Simon, you shouldn't force yourself to do things you're not at ease with. If you want to help, you can help at the infirmary. You have caretaker protocols, you would be very useful there."

Simon protested half-heartedly, but 900 cut him off. "I assure you, me and Lieutenant Anderson will do fine on our own. If we do need help, we will ask for it, but I highly doubt that will be the case."

"Jesus," the man muttered. "You're a smug prick, you know that?"

Ah. So it wasn't just her. 900 didn't react to the man's comment and turned to the deviant leader. "I will find Connor. You can count on me, Markus." 

The RK200 seemed surprised, but he simply nodded. "All right. Thank you, 900."

"Okay, let's go. I don't want to wait another minute," the human said, and he left the group. 

900 lingered shortly. "Does anyone here know in which direction Connor left?"

Markus gestured at North. "She was the last one to see him."

900 directed his cold gaze towards North. "Well?" 

He kept a professional tone, but the corners of his mouth were curled downards and he wasn't making a single effort to hide the distaste he felt for her in his eyes. She could understand that he hadn't appreciated the taser to the hip, but that didn't change the fact that she itched to send her fist in that haughty deviant hunter face. She already knew this guy would be insufferable and nearly wished it was Connor instead. How had she even thought they looked anything remotely alike? She would've liked to make the RK900 change his attitude, but they had a missing killer android on their hands and no time to lose.

"I was coming from the side of the military when I saw him, and he ran the opposite way," she answered bregrudgingly.

"Thank you," he answered in a clipped voice, and he turned around to join the lieutenant in a few quick strides.

"North," came Markus' voice from her right, and she tried not to wince upon hearing the steel in his voice. She schooled her features in a picture of innocence and turned to face him.

"Yes?"

Markus' eyes were narrowed in suspicion. "What were you doing over there?"

"Just checking that they hadn't left any traps behind."

His eyes narrowed even more. "You didn't happen to find and keep any weapons, did you?"

"No," she answered, and she saw Simon make a face behind Markus. Yeah, that had been a bit too quick to be truthful and they probably all knew it.

Markus looked just about done with her self-assigned salvaging missions. "I don't want those in the camp. Get rid of them, we didn't fight and we still aren't going to, no matter what happens from now on."

"What if Connor comes back and shoots you? What if 900 does the same? I'm not throwing anything away, or we won't be able to defend ourselves if that happens," argued North.

"Then we'll find another way to do that. I mean it, North, I don't want any weapons in the camp. We'll throw out all those that were left behind by the military while we clean up Hart Plaza, and that isn't up for discussion."

"Fine," she huffed.

"Good. Let's get back to our positions," Markus said as he gestured towards the camp. Both Josh and Simon started walking away, but he held her back.

"You should try and be nicer to Lieutenant Anderson. He's the one who brought back Simon, and he also brought back two other androids who were stuck in the evidence room of the DPD. He's a good man," he told her in a low voice.

North frowned and pulled her arm out of his grip. "One, you could have told that to me sooner, and two, he's still a human. Don't tell me what to feel about a human, Markus."

The RK200 didn't insist and she joined Simon's side. Maybe the lieutenant wasn't complete trash like all the other humans she'd been forced to meet before, and she could accept that she was feeling grateful for Simon's return. He was no android, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 21/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> I wish we had more material to go by concerning RK900's personality, but hey. Guess creating a personality for him is part of the fun. I figured he wouldn't understand the concept of deviancy since he can't compare "being a machine" to "not being a machine". By the way, he's 900 now, but they'll come up with Nines at one point.  
> North is the living embodiment of "You ain't shit, fight me."  
> You don't hear Josh much here, but that's probably because North filters out anything he says.  
> The "Simon is traumatized" tag is peeking out in this chapter.  
> Hank's had enough, it's time to look for his son. It's like that scene in Heavy Rain except "Shaun!" becomes "Connor!". Or maybe not, because the ending to that scene wasn't very uplifting.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	6. Found

900 led the way to the broken barricades while the lieutenant lumbered close behind, and stood between them and the recall center to try and find some semblance of bearings in the quickly darkening evening.

Then 900 pointed a finger to the right. "He went that way."

The lieutenant arched a brow. "How the hell would you know?"

"I asked North before coming here, Lieutenant. Rest assured that I am not playing the guessing game."

"Smartass," he grumbled.

They made their way down the street and 900 looked about for any public cameras he could try to hack into. He decided now was a good time to ask for another point of view on the situation and did so without turning his attention away from the task at hand.

"Lieutenant, what is your take on Connor's behaviour?"

The human walking at his side answered gruffly, but he also sounded bothered. "It's definitely weird, but the guy's weird all the time so it's not really saying much."

"Do you think he felt threatened? Why would he have fled from those androids?"

"I dunno. They told me he had a gun with him, so maybe he spotted a danger on the outside of the camp perimeter?"

"It seems unlikely, given the behaviour that was described by the LM100 prior to his fleet." 900 finally found what he was looking for. "Lieutenant, do you have a screen I could display surveillance tape on?"

The man fished out his phone from his coat pocket. "I've got this thing, would it work?"

The android plucked the device out of his hand in one fluid movement and ignored the man's indignant "hey!" as he hacked into the phone to run the video.

"You know him better than I do. What do you think of his facial expression?" asked 900, showing him the footage.

Lieutenant Anderson squinted at the screen and the crease of his brow deepened. "Holy shit, Connor..." He tore his eyes away from the footage to look at 900. "He looks like he's about to shit his pants. You think someone was after him?"

"North mentioned a few times that he nearly killed Markus. Maybe Connor was scared that one of those androids would try to take revenge?"

"Nah," Lieutenant Anderson shook his head. "That's not their style, and Connor would kick their ass if they tried. He wouldn't be scared of them in that way."

"In that way?" echoed 900.

"Yeah, he'd probably be scared of their reproval more than getting his ass handed to him. I met up with him before he came here and he told me he didn't really want to go back to that camp. After what North said, I'm thinking he felt guilty about he did. What I don't understand is why he would've gone and done it again, it makes no sense."

900 fell silent and followed the street that Connor was shown running into on the surveillance tape. He looked up at the buildings again, searching for another camera he could hack. He nearly missed the one that contained an image of Connor because it only lasted for a second. 900 made it play out on the phone again, and this time they saw only a corner of the dark grey jacket and the right leg of Connor's dark pants. It seemed that Connor had been running in one direction, but had abruptly turned away at the last moment.

"He could have been trying to avoid the camera," mused 900, "but that doesn't make a lot of sense. If he really did intend to avoid it, he wouldn't have been caught by it at all. There must be another reason. Perhaps there was something else he was trying to avoid."

"Or maybe he just remembered he had to go another way," suggested Lieutenant Anderson. They had no idea what had really made Connor change directions, but at least the feed showed the direction in which he had gone. They walked down another street and 900 repeated the process of finding more surveillance tape while he asked another question.

"Lieutenant, do you know if there is anywhere Connor would consider a safe place?"

"You know, every time you ask something I realize I don't know much about how that dumbass  
thinks and it sorta pisses me off. No, I don't know what he considers a safe place."

900 found yet another clip of Connor and he frowned. "It's not normal that we're able to follow him through surveillance cameras. If he was running to hide, then he would have avoided the cameras' field of capture. It seems like he was under pressure and panicking."

"Connor panicking? Don't think so."

900 raised his eyes from the video. "Lieutenant, you said it yourself. He looks terrified. I think it's reasonable to suspect that he was in fact panicking."

Lieutenant Anderson didn't argue. 900 continued picking out pertinent pieces of surveillance footage and noted that Connor's abrupt changes in direction did not seem to be dictated by logic or a precise map, and it was most likely that he was avoiding something like 900 had originally suspected. He finally caught on after visualizing ten of the clips they had of Connor veering off-course that whilst five of them didn't show anything in particular, three of them displayed humanoid shadows and two showed other androids.

"It would seem that he was avoiding other androids," 900 concluded.

"Might be the reason why he left the camp. It still doesn't tell us where he went," the man answered tersely.

"I'm working on it, Lieutenant."

900 managed to find two more clips before they hit a bump in their investigation. Not a single camera in the vicinity had managed to capture Connor's progress. 900 took a moment to summarize the information they'd gathered. "Connor was running scared from something. He had a gun. He was avoiding other androids. He must have tried finding a place where he could be alone, maybe to face the threat."

The lieutenant seemed lost in thought as well and he mumbled to himself : "So if he was looking for a place he'd be sure was deserted, it had to be familiar to him."

"Do you have any idea where he could have gone?"

"During the week we worked together, the only places he went aside from the DPD were crime scenes, my home, Jimmy's Bar and the Chicken Feed. The CyberLife Tower is also a place he knows, and before I met him he probably only ever went to investigate crimes scenes and stuff like that. That's all the familiar places I can think of."

"It would be pertinent to go down this line of reasoning. Lieutenant, do you recall attending a crime scene in this vicinity during the week Connor was partnered with you?"

Lieutenant Anderson looked around and pulled at his beard absent-mindedly. "Lemme think... Must be the Eden Club one. It would make sense for it to be empty, considering. No sane android would want to stay in that hellhole."

"It's worth a try."

900 and the lieutenant started heading towards the general area of the club. They were far from the plaza and androids had stopped crossing their paths several streets ago, which meant they hadn't seen anyone for a good fifteen minutes. This was why 900 was immediately alert when he noticed the shape moving in the shadows just a few yards ahead. What achieved to make him suspicious were the blue stains on the android's clothes, and he called out to it.

"You there, are you injured?"

The android turned around and the flickering streetlight spilled over its features. 900's facial recognition program identified a Traci model, and it also registered the surprise that bloomed on its face when her eyes met his. And then the Traci spun around and ran. 900's immediate response to the sight of her retreating back was to track her down.

"Woah hey, hold up! 900!"

The lieutenant's shout didn't stop 900 and he heard the man's cursing grow distant as he lept over the trash can the Traci had just pushed over. The Traci was fast, but 900 was faster, and he quickly started gaining on the android. It turned around the corner and he had the time to see its LED blink yellow before something crashed into him from above. He hit the ground and felt hands scrabbling at his chest, and he quickly understood that he was in danger of deactivation. An android sat on top of him and he identified it as yet another Traci model. He'd been ambushed. There was blue blood on her as well.

900 twisted around and with a violent jerk of his hips, sent the android crashing to the ground. He quickly jumped to his feet and extended an arm towards her neck before drawing back in the nick of time as a third Traci jumped in the fight from the left. He was going to be outnumbered.  
900 dropped down on all fours to avoid the swing of a fist and his leg shot out, impacting the Traci in the ankle with such force that it cracked. As she tripped and fell, he swiftly got back up and elbowed the android behind him, then whipped around to grab it by the hair and smash its head against the wall. He heard the whining of its processor as it shut down from the shock, but already he was focusing on the last intact android. He swooped down to avoid being hit by the butt of the gun in her hand and hit her wrist with the flat of his palm, forcing her to let go of the weapon, before he grabbed her by the waist to hurl her against the wall. The gun was in his hand a second later and he aimed it at the Traci with the broken ankle. She cowered against the wall with her arms raised above her head.

"Why did you attack me?" he growled.

"Please, don't shoot!"

"Whose blood is on your clothes?"

Their LEDs were pulsing a frantic red and neither androids answered his question. 900 stepped back without lowering his gun to approach the Traci that had shut down. He cautiously rubbed his finger against the fabric of her clothes and analyzed the trace of thirium, never letting the other two out of sight.

 **BLUE BLOOD**  
MODEL RK800  
Serial number #313 248 317

His grip tightened around the gun in his hand. "Tell me where he is."

The Traci he'd thrown against the wall had gotten back to her feet, but she remained where she was and hissed : "You're traitors, you don't deserve to live. We'll never tell you."

900 narrowed his eyes at her and his voice was cold when he spoke again. "Are those your last words?"

The other Traci cried out : "No, she doesn't know what she's saying! Don't kill her!"

900's face was impassive. He didn't have the patience to wait, and if he hadn't been looking for answers, he already would have made quick work of all of them for trying to shut him down. "If you don't tell me, I'll have no choice but to deactivate her," he threatened.

The scared android's eyes flickered between him and the other Traci. "I..."

"Don't tell him!" snapped the other Traci.

900's eyes hardened and he took a step closer to the Traci with the broken ankle, his gun unwaveringly trained on her. She stared at him with wide eyes when he crouched in front of her and reached for her arm.

The other Traci lurched forward with a scream. "Get away from her!"

He whipped the gun in her direction.

"No!"

The gunshot echoed in the small alleyway and the Traci slumped forward. She didn't move again and a soft whirring sound rose from her body. The last one grovelled on the ground in front of him, tears trailing down her cheeks.

"You monster! You're horrible!"

900 grabbed her arm without management. "You should have told me when you still had the chance."

Her eyes widened when she saw the white plastic of his hand, but she didn't have the time to pull back before he initiated a forceful interface. Her mental barriers quickly gave way beneath his superior functions, and the connection was flooded with images of blue and red and the sound of hysterical laughter. He threw back her arm with a jolt, as if he'd been shocked, and quickly got back on his feet. The Traci was twitching and unresponsive now, but he felt no remorse, only digust.

"You deserved this," he said.

900 straightened and walked past the corner, leaving the three broken Tracis behind. His hand slipped the gun into his waistband and he started running towards the location the memory probe had shown him. How was he going to tell the lieutenant? The human and Connor were evidently friends, it was likely going to be difficult for him to remain calm if he saw the RK800 now. There was a high chance the android wouldn't be salvageable unless the leaders of Jericho found the right parts in the CyberLife Tower ; but if they'd managed to find him, an RK900, than maybe they had found parts for both his and Connor's model.

900 drew closer to Connor's location and he slowed down upon entering the alley. His scans detected thirium splatters on every surface, but that wasn't the worst of it when he stopped in front of the gruesome scene. Connor lay broken on the ground as the light of 900's LED dimly bounced off his white chassis, and it was worse to see this in reality than through the Traci's eyes. The android was missing both his legs and his right arm had been ripped off, and when 900 forced himself to step closer he noticed that Connor's left arm had been broken off at the elbow and discarded on the ground next to him. The Tracis had torn open his button-up shirt to reach the biocomponent hidden beneath, where his thirium pump was still in his chest but had lost its glow. The android's LED was dead and 900's eyes were inorexably drawn to the bullet hole in his forehead, just above an empty eye socket. He stood there without moving for a while and then turned away to stare at the wall, and the light spilled red in the alley. He'd only been alive for five hours and he'd already had to witness his predecessor's mangled remains, like a twisted mirror image of what could happen to him someday.

900 didn't understand why this had happened the way it did, but whatever the reason, he wished he hadn't known what the Traci's memory had shown him. It was such a disturbing scene that he struggled to get his thoughts back on the right track. He had to close his eyes to focus on the problem at hand : getting Connor back to the camp, where the leaders would know what to do. The renewed definition of his current objective helped to lower his stress levels back to an acceptable 57% and he decided he was ready to look at Connor again. He repressed the dread that threatened to engulf him and knelt down next to the prone RK800 to gather it in his arms, then hastily picked up the scattered limbs as well. They were badly damaged and he doubted that they could be used again, but he had to bring them as well in case the leaders hadn't found similar biocomponents. He couldn't find the missing optical unit, but he suspected that it was the crushed and useless piece of metal and glass he'd seen at the entrance of the alley. He started making his way back to the camp and sent Lieutenant Anderson a message.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 22/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> Don't hit me don't hit me! I warned you Connor was in for some shit. Those Tracis were batshit bonkers by the way, but honestly after what they probably lived through I don't blame them. I don't condone what they did to Connor though, that's Not Cool™.  
> Again, poor RK900. Life just won't let him be a deviant in peace. Poor guy's been alive for five hours and he's already carrying trauma. Hank is gonna have an aneurysm over this whole thing, but not before killing Connor himself for being such an idiot.
> 
> By the way, I'd love to get feedback on my writing (notably characterization and action scenes)! Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	7. Reactivation

"Fuck," cursed Hank as he stared at his phone. He'd been stuck here in the cold waiting like a damn tourist for a sign of 900's return and it had been twenty minutes already. His hands were numb now, but it wasn't just because of the weather. He didn't know when the RK900 had gotten around to updating his contact information on the phone, but there it was.  
_______  
\- 9:34 PM -

RK900 : I have found Connor, but he is offline.  
RK900 : I should warn you, his appearance might come to you as a shock.  
RK900 : I suggest that you return to the android camp, so we can meet up there.  
______

Offline couldn't be good. No wonder all of Hank's messages to Connor had gone unanswered and his calls denied, and that also meant the android had been in that state for hours now. What the hell kind of trouble had he gotten himself into? Hank sent a reply as fast as his uncooperative fingers allowed him to and shoved the phone back into his coat pocket as he quickly turned back the way they'd come. His heart was pounding in his chest and questions circled in his brain like vultures.  
Did offline mean the same thing as shut down?  
Could Connor come back from that?  
Was he going to make it?  
Did they even have parts for his model?  
The thoughts welled up in his head until they were about to boil over and Hank started running. The cold air pierced his nose and throat and helped to focus on something other than the fear coiling in his gut. He had to hurry back to the camp and make sure Connor was all right. Hank wasn't religious, but he hoped to the bastard upstairs that his friend hadn't been too damaged or even worse, destroyed. It couldn't be that bad, 900 would have told him otherwise. ...Probably. He would've told him, right? Who was he kidding, it was idiotic to assume anything of the android. Hank didn't know much about 900 besides how much of a smug prick he was.

It had been a shock to hear the female leader- North- say they'd found an android like Connor, and for a moment Hank had feared they'd found another machine like the one he and Connor had fought at the Tower. Yeah, every android had the right to live and they would probably be able to deviate it if they found one, but Hank figured that he really didn't want to meet another clone. It would be weird since Connor was supposed to be singular and wasn't mass-produced like all the other models in Detroit, not to mention that the only time there'd been more than one RK800 activated at once, Hank and Connor had nearly died and the revolution gone belly-up. So no, Hank didn't want to cross paths with another RK800 ; the city of Detroit only needed one and it was his partner, thank you very much. 

Once the androids in the warehouse had all woken up, Connor had asked Hank to leave the city because it had become too dangerous for humans. Hank had refused, of course. It wasn't like he was going to leave Detroit any time soon : he didn't see how bailing from the city would help, he'd only end up far from the one guy who'd sort of livened up his routine, and lose the only occupation that had kept him going for years. Sumo was an old dog and a trip would just stress him out, so he wasn't going anywhere either. Part of Hank had also wanted to see the android revolution to the end even if he wasn't too sure why himself ; maybe to be there as a witness, or some shit like that. When he'd refused to get out of the city, Connor hadn't tried to change his mind and Hank had suspected that the android was actually glad to keep him close. He was sure of it now that he'd heard his friend actually say it out loud in front of the Chicken Feed earlier today. Hank still felt embarrassed by Connor's honesty just thinking about it, but he couldn't deny the earnest words had filled his old heart with warmth. Hank didn't know why exactly he'd gone for the hug except that it had chiefly been out of sheer relief to see Connor alive and well, and undeniably something else which he didn't intend to admit to feeling out loud. But yeah, he was proud of Connor : proud that he'd finally made his breakthrough as a deviant after all this time, and proud of the role he'd played in the revolution. The hug had obviously taken Connor by surprise, because he'd been as stiff as a plank when Hank had pulled him forward, and remained that way for a few seconds until he'd realized what was happening. It was probably safe to assume no one had ever hugged the guy before, him being a cop android and all, but he'd caught on pretty fast all things considered. God knew Hank himself hadn't held another living being in his arms in a very, very long time. Considering how embarrassingly long they stayed that way, Hank assumed that he hadn't been the only one to find it rather nice.

Hank had been glad to see Connor in one piece in the snowy street that morning, because the night he'd spent prior to their meeting hadn't been peaceful. An image had lingered in his mind that he hadn't managed to get rid of until the early hours of the morning, when alcohol had finally blurred its edges. It came from the CyberLife tower. When Connor had departed with the thousands of AP700 models, Hank had been left behind with the disturbingly still body of Connor's clone. He'd knelt down and noticed the serial number ending in -60, and part of him had felt guilty for shooting the RK800 in the head. It had been a machine, and a real bastard to boot, but it could have been turned deviant just like Connor had turned the AP700 models. Who was Hank to decide whether this guy deserved to live or not? Well, he hadn't really had a choice considering this android would have done anything to stop the revolution and all the other deviants would have been fucked, but still : this guy was another version of Connor. He could have _been_ Connor at one point, if Connor had died that many times, and Hank would have worked with him just like he'd worked with Connor. But he'd shot him in the head, putting a bullet right between those brown eyes he'd come to appreciate, beneath that ridiculous tuft of hair he'd finally gotten used to. Hank wondered if Connor sometimes thought of that night on the bridge, when Hank had pulled a gun on him and threatened to shoot. If he did, he hadn't said anything about it since then.  
He'd stared at the -60 model some more, reached out hesitantly to give it a pat on the shoulder and then decided that a mumbled apology was enough before getting back to his feet and leaving it behind in the wide empty warehouse. The memory of his own gun aiming at Connor's face and his finger pulling the trigger still lingered ; the dark hole that had suddenly appeared in that forehead, the body reeling back and crashing to the ground like a lead statue, the soft whirring of a computer shutting down and the frozen features of the dead android were all too vivid. 

Needless to say, Hank had been both relieved and disturbed to see that the android that "looked like Connor" was actually a whole different model. The first thing he'd thought was that his white jacket was ridiculously high-collared and that it couldn't be comfortable. Then Markus had woken the RK900 and Hank had been shocked to hear that even its voice was Connor's. It had then really, fully hit him just how incredibly likely North's hypothesis was : Connor's model had been meant to be replaced. Those CyberLife bastards would have replaced Connor with this model, and Hank would have had to work with a whole new android that both looked and sounded like his friend but wasn't him. It was a small comfort to see that they at least hadn't let the RK900 keep Connor's brown eyes, because Hank probably would've considered the RK900 the same as the -60 android otherwise, and he didn't know if he could have handled being around it. Another thought had slammed him in the gut when his eyes had caught on the model number of the RK900's jacket again : Connor could have been replaced at any moment, and Hank wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. His friend would have been deactivated, and without the revolution, Hank would have had no chance to ever see him again. 

God, Connor was going to _hate_ this, he just knew it.

At least the RK900 actually seemed to have a distinct personality from Connor's, Hank had been able to tell that much when it had started interacting with the other androids. Sure, there was the same smooth and collected aura and controlled movements, but he sounded like even more of a smug prick than Connor and seemed a lot less awkward when talking with other people. He was also slightly more expressive and it felt weird to see emotions animate that face so differently. Thank fuck his eyes were blue or Hank's brain would've ended up closely resembling scrambled eggs. He just hoped Connor wouldn't freak out or anything upon meeting his ugrade. Hank had never seen him panick, but it could probably happen now that Connor was a deviant.

Or maybe he had already seen it. On that surveillance tape.

Hank gritted his teeth, wondering yet again what could have scared Connor to that extent. Terror just didn't fit with the idea he had of his partner's usual composure, and Hank had always thought nothing could ruffle the android's feathers that bad. He'd seen him frustrated, angry, doubtful, even scared, but never terrified. Whatever had happened, Hank hoped it was something they could fix- and that Connor himself didn't need any fixing.

It took him two hours to get back to the camp and androids shot him dirty looks when he ran past them, which was such a human reaction that Hank almost flipped them off out of habit. Without 900 at his side, he probably looked like an invader and Hank suddenly didn't feel very confident that he was safe. Connor had been right saying it was a bad idea for him to barge in the camp alone. For a cop in his fifties, Hank could be pretty fucking clueless. He was stopped by some androids at the entrance again, thankfully still in one piece, and had to resist the urge to punch them in their perfect faces when they prevented him from going any further.

"I'm an aquaintance of your leaders," he told them with a self-control he often forgot he had. "They're waiting for me."

Three of the androids that still had their LEDs in started pinwheeling yellow and then visibly relaxed, and Hank guessed they'd just done that wireless communication thing with Markus and the rest. One of them nodded at him.

"You can come with me, I'll bring you to them."

"Thanks," grunted Hank, and he followed the female android. Her face was familiar and he rapidly tied it back to the case where Connor had chased two deviants across a highway and gotten run over as a result, that fucking moron. If his memory served him well, she was an AX400, which was basically a maid model. He wondered yet again what fresh hell this android could had gone through at the hands of humans, like he did every time he met an android face to face since he'd learned that deviants harboured real feelings. He cleared his throat as they walked across the plaza and asked: "Hey, uh... Are you... happy?"

The AX400 turned to him with a cautious expression. "Why do you ask?"

"Well, I just... I'm wondering. I'm hoping you are. You know, what with the whole being free business and all that."

She stared at him like he was from outer space, and it lasted so long that Hank wondered if there was something on his face. In the end, she looked back ahead and simply said : "Yes, we are."

Hank had meant the question to be directed at her individually, but it shouldn't have surprised him that she'd interpreted it as a question to all androids. The unity of Markus' people was humbling every time Hank caught sight of it, and he wondered what the world would be like if humans had the same power of cohesion. When he looked around his surroundings to take in the different part of the camp he and the AX400 has stepped into, he saw tents neatly lined up, where android LEDs and exposed biocomponents gently glowed in the night. A lot of the androids were broken, but their lights were a calm blue and he realized they had reached the camp's medical section where he'd been earlier. The AX400 guided him around a worn-down structure and gestured him inside.

"The leaders are waiting for you. This is where we part ways," the AX400 told him.

Hank nodded. "Thanks."

She left him there and he tried to calm his nerves. It didn't bode well that this was where the leaders and probably Connor were waiting for him, but he'd expected this after reading 900's messages. Hank took a deep breath and pushed open the door. He was greeted by the sight of the dark-skinned leader- Josh- sitting on a chair at the entrance.

"Welcome back, Lieutenant," said the android in his calm voice.

Hank didn't waste any time with the formalities. "Where is he?"

The way Josh's expression shifted made foreboding curl up in his stomach. "I'll bring you to him, but you'll have to remain calm."

"Shit. It's that bad?"

The android spoke with the tone that was used when trying to soften the blow of bad news. "Unfortunately, Connor is very damaged. His appearance might catch you off guard."

"Yeah, I know, 900 told me. Look, I won't do anything stupid, I just want to see him. "

Josh rose from his seat. "I believe you. Come with me."

Hank followed him in the back of the building and he started to make out outbursts of voices coming from there. The android stopped him a few steps away from a wooden screen, and the expression Hank saw on his face was both compassionate and uncomfortable. 

"Lieutenant, we were debating on whether or not we should reactivate him. Please don't get angry when we broach the subject."

Hank felt a rush of disbelief and rage at the mere idea that Connor wouldn't be allowed to reactivate, and he almost opened his mouth to yell, but decided against it at the last moment. He couldn't afford to be kicked out because of a temper tantrum, so he controlled himself and gave a curt nod instead. There was some sort of alcove behind the wooden screen and when they entered it, the voices abruptly stopped arguing. Hank's gaze landed on the table in the middle of the room and he felt his stomach flip at the sight that laid there. For a moment, everything was silent.

"What happened?" he finally said, and his voice sounded muffled to his own ears.

"According to 900, he was attacked," said Markus' voice on his left. "We don't know the details."

Hank approached the mangled corpse, blood pulsating in his ears. It didn't look like Connor. Just a white mannequin with dents and cracks everywhere, missing all its limbs save for its left upper arm, with an empty eye socket on the left and a dark deactivated eye on the right. There was a hole in its forehead much like the one Hank had left in the -60 model's, and he felt his skin crawl at the sight. It didn't look like Connor at all, but Hank felt his heart clench when he recognized the straight outline of Connor's nose, and the slightly upturned lips, and the high cheekbones, and the strong brow. Yeah, it was Connor all right. He felt his throat swell and stepped closer to the table. 

"Connor?"

His partner's LED was extinct, so of course he didn't react to his voice. Hank hesitantly put his hand on Connor's head, hoping the physical contact would somehow wake him up, but the android's face was deathly still. It was disturbing to see him without his skin, and it wasn't so much because of the uncanny appearance. Hank already knew that his friend was a machine that could be broken, had seen Connor bleed blue before, had seen him get shot in the head and run over and still come back; but for some reason, Connor seemed much more fragile in this android form of white plastic and gray outlines than he had looking human. And fuck did it feel bad to see him like this.

"You really messed up, huh," Hank choked out. He just wanted to run out of this place, away from the nightmarish sight of his friend lying limbless and unreactive on the table, but he stayed. He had to, if he wanted to make sure Connor could wake up again. He looked up at the faces surrounding him and anger flowed back through his veins. "Which one of you fuckers refuses to wake him up?"

"It hasn't been decided yet, Lieutenant." Markus was the one to answer. He looked forlorn. 

"It shouldn't even be a question!" snapped Hank. "Have you even tried to repair him at all?"

"We have RK800 parts from the CyberLife Tower, we should be able to reconstruct his body." 

"So quit your bellyaching and put him back together! What the hell even is the problem?"

"The problem," snapped North from her corner, "is that he attempted to kill Markus and we can't have him running around like nothing happened."

"I'll say it again," intervened Josh. "We don't know that for sure. We don't _know_ what Connor was thinking."

"And I'll say it again, he pulled a gun out in front of a crowd of thousands of androids like it was a completely natural thing to do! I know for a fact that there was no threat there, I checked! His goal was to shoot Markus!"

"He didn't shoot him."

"He could have!" North threw out her arms in exasperation. "For rA9's sake, why do we have to keep going over the same arguments again and again, he's dangerous and that's all there is to it!" 

"Simon, what do you think?" Markus asked. The PL600 was standing next to North and hadn't said anything since Hank had stepped inside the room, and his head jerked up like he'd been caught off guard. 

"I think... North has a point. It's risky to reactivate him," he said slowly. "But I can tell you've already made up your mind, Markus. What do you want to do?"

"I want to give him a chance," Markus said calmly, and North slammed her fist against the wall. Jesus, and Hank thought _he_ was an angry guy.

"You gave him a chance, Markus, you helped him deviate! Yes, he helped us win the revolution, but his programming as a deviant hunter is obviously too strong! I won't let you activate him just so you can end up dead!"

"We don't have to reconstruct him fully to talk with him," Markus suggested, and there was a brief lull in the conversation. It was obvious to everyone in the room that he was going to reactivate Connor no matter what, but if Hank correctly understood what Markus was implying, then he didn't like where this was going.

"What do you mean?" asked Simon apprehensively.

"We could repair him so that his primary functions come back online, but without giving him the possibility to be a threat to us," explained Markus grimly. "He would be able to explain himself, and we'd avoid any casualties."

"So we repair his head and torso, but not the limbs," North summarized thoughtfully, and it seemed like this was an option she was willing to get behind. Hank, however, was not.

"Fuck no!" Hank shouted, horror bleeding through the anger in his voice. "That's just horrible!"

"We would be no better than the humans who tormented us," Josh agreed sternly. "Are you really suggesting that we wake him up while he is trapped and powerless?"

"That's the point, Josh," snapped North.

"Think about the emotional distress that would cause him," he argued. "You can't seriously expect me to agree with inflicting more mental harm on such a damaged android!"

She remained unfazed. "It's a small price to pay."

"No, I can't agree with this. I refuse to! This is twisted and wrong, Markus!" erupted Josh, and the look on his face was frightening. Hank hadn't thought the calm android was capable of getting this angry.

Markus' sad expression had been replaced by the hard stare of a leader, and he bluntly said : "I know, Josh. But what better choice do we have?"

Josh shook his head vehemently. "We shouldn't restrict his movement like some prisoner! Would you be able to do this to me, or North, or Simon?"

"Yes." Markus replied without hesitation, and his stare was so cold that Hank thought he felt the temperature in the room drop a few degrees. "If that's what I had to do, then I would."

"Josh, it's for the best," intervened Simon with a soft voice. "This way we'll know exactly what's wrong with Connor, without the risk of him actually hurting one of us. We'll be able to talk with him safely."

Josh stared at him, but then looked away without a word. The silent refusal was louder than any yelling they could've done. Hank decided to throw in his own opinion for good measure and jerked his thumb towards Josh.  
"It's like he said, you're all seriously messed up if you think this is a good solution. Do you all realize that you're actually considering to grill Connor _without his limbs_?"

Markus turned his narrowed eyes on him and the only reason Hank didn't shrink beneath the leader's implacable stare was because he had years of experience in dealing with hardened criminals. For all the warmth and love Markus showed his people, he sure could be terrifying.  
"This _isn't_ a good solution, Lieutenant Anderson, and I'm fully aware of that. However, it is a compromise, and that's the best we can do in this situation."

Hank held his gaze and growled : "It's torture, Markus. You're about to torture one of your own."

900 suddenly spoke up. "If I may, I believe Connor would agree to Markus' plan. It is without a doubt the most practical and efficient scenario that could help us understand what is going on, with the best risk to benefit ratio."

Hank glared at him disbelievingly and then shook his head. It must have been his nerves failing, but he almost felt like laughing at them for how ridiculous this was. He ended up muttering: "I can't believe you're really thinking of doing this."

"We have no choice," Markus told him. His words were followed by silence, and then Hank heard Josh shift around and leave the room. Another long pause stretched out until Markus spoke again. "You can leave too, Lieutenant, if this makes you uncomfortable."

"What, and leave Connor alone with you friggin' psychopaths? Fat chance," scoffed Hank. North still had her eyes narrowed at him, but he'd met her eight hours ago and had gotten used to it in about thirty seconds.

Markus nodded without acknowledging the insult and then turned to the android next to him. "I think it would be best if you weren't there when Connor wakes up."

900 frowned, and he sounded hurt when he asked : "Why? I'd like to talk to him."

North spoke up from her corner of the room. "You're his upgrade and you look exactly like him. He's not stupid, he'll figure out you were meant to replace him. He's going to feel threatened."

"And Connor's had a run-in with a clone before," added Hank. "I'll spare you the details, but we almost got killed by said clone. He'll probably freak out if he finds an android who looks exactly like him in the room and he can't defend himself. You know, 'cause you decided it would be better if he couldn't move." Hank almost felt bad for saying those last words when he saw 900's shoulders sag a little. 

"...I understand," he ended up saying. "I will stay out of sight for his reactivation."

"Thank you, 900," said Markus with a sympathetic smile. 

Simon left North's side. "I'll go get the parts."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 23/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> I've been wondering, does this qualify as gore? Probably. I'm not sure. Should I add a tag?  
> I like to think the last time Hank ever hugged anybody was probably when he hugged Cole, in which case it's pretty significant that he was the one to initiate the hug with Connor.  
> Damn, Markus, you cold. Gotta do what a leader's gotta do. On an author's note, does the Jericrew sound in character?  
> Anyway, you can expect a nice hot serving of emotional distress in the next chapter because Connor isn't going to wake up all nice and easy.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	8. Interrogation

Markus twisted the optical unit into place and a satisfying whirring sound rose from Connor's skull. His LED was shining the quiet blue shade of stasis that was necessary to make the finer repairs, but his synthetic skin had yet to come back online. Every single crack and dent contrasted starkly against his white chassis and it hadn't been easy noting that they all screamed of deliberate violence. This had been no accident. 900 had been silent about how exactly he'd found Connor, but Markus knew a disturbed android when he saw one. There was no doubt that 900 knew something they didn't. While investigating Connor's chest cavity, Markus had noticed that there were scrape marks along the metal that encased the pump and damage to the connections with the main thirium lines, and the regulator presented similar anomalies which indicated that both biocomponents had been roughly removed before being pushed back in again. Markus wasn't sure for what reason that had been done exactly, but it made a cold and uncomfortable sensation linger down his spine. He steeled himself and tried not to think too much about the fact that they were about to do something terrible when the RK800 had visibly gone through far too much already. 

Markus didn't want to do this. He hated that he was forcing Connor to remain limbless, hated that he was inflicting the very thing he feared the most on another android, hated that neither he or Josh had found an alternative to this decision, but there was no miracle solution to their dilemma. Connor could not be underestimated : despite his unassuming looks, he was a weapon, and a formidably lethal one at that. This was the safest way to neutralize him and they had no choice but to go through with it. Markus' role as the leader who always took the final decision did not allow him to show how uneasy it made him: showing weakness would have been equivalent to showing doubt, and he couldn't let the others see that he was uncertain or they wouldn't be able to rely on him. Markus could only hope that this arrangement wouldn't last and that Connor would soon be able to walk free once again. There had to be something wrong with him : he couldn't have gone on a suicide mission for their cause just to kill off the head of the revolution a few hours later. Surely his behaviour had to be due to some kind of error that they would be able to fix.

Lieutenant Anderson had nodded off at some point during the repairs. It was 3:24AM and he was slumped on the table, and his hand was on the android's only remaining limb, as if trying to comfort Connor even in sleep. The respect Markus felt towards the human resembled that he felt for Carl and was largely due to that fact that Lieutenant Anderson regarded deviants as fellow sentient beings. Markus had only know him for a few hours at best, yet he found the lieutenant to be interesting company, despite his lack of politeness. Markus suspected that he didn't usually spare humans his foul language either. He hadn't expected Lieutenant Anderson to be so invested in his friendship with his android partner, because Connor hadn't mentioned the lieutenant before. Then again, Markus did not know much about Connor, and the revolutionary context in which they'd met hadn't allowed them to share anything about their respective selves. Markus wanted to learn to know the one whose mission had been to relentlessly hunt him and his people down, the one who could have ruined it all if he hadn't deviated, the one who was so clearly wracked with guilt over his actions as a machine. Markus had been quick to trust and rely on the ex-deviant hunter, and he didn't intend to change that now. He knew North and Simon would take some convincing after Connor had pulled a gun on him twice, but much like Josh, he was ready to give him another chance. It wasn't right to deactivate one of their own when he'd just turned deviant one day ago, not now that he'd teared down the red wall and was finally free. Markus had no idea what he'd do if it turned out that Connor really had intended to kill him and that there was no way to change that. He preferred to think it was unlikely and not dwell on that possibility for now.

Simon had welded shut the upsetting hole in Connor's forehead after replacing the CPU and trying to repair the damage to the smaller wires as best as he could. They'd replenished the android's thirium levels, closed the panel to his chest cavity, and covered his chest with a sheet that was tied around his neck. Markus carefully removed the lieutenant's hand from the broken arm, and propped Connor's torso up against the wall at the end of the table. Simon handed him two long pieces of fabric and Markus secured Connor in place by wrapping the two wide straps around his waist and chest and affixing them to the hook above his head. Seeing the RK800 limbless made Markus' memories of a hellish stormy night crawl into his thoughts, slowly rising to the surface one by one, but he pushed all of them back down before they could take over his mind. He had to focus. Connor's most important damage had been repaired and it was time to wake him up.

He nodded towards the two others, and Simon left to go find North and Josh while 900 leaned down to wake up the human. A light shake of the shoulder jolted Lieutenant Anderson awake with a snort and he blearily looked up at the android who'd roused him.

"...Connor?"

900's lips twitched unhappily and he quietly said : "No."

Lieutenant Anderson rubbed his face and looked up at him again, then at Markus and Connor, and for a single second Markus saw deep sadness in his eyes. Then the lieutenant blinked and leaned back into his seat, and the moment was gone. 

"Sorry I fell asleep on you," he mumbled.

"That's quite all right, Lieutenant," said Markus with a reassuring smile.

"It's better for your health," started 900, and Lieutenant Anderson cut him off immediately.

"Yeah, yeah, drop the health talk, Connor already took the position. And you, Markus, stop calling me Lieutenant all the time, just Hank is fine. I don't call you mister deviant leader or mister RK200, do I? It's already bad enough that Connor's always yapping lieutenant, lieutenant everywhere he goes."

Markus found himself a bit taken aback by the lieutenant's steady stream of words so soon after he'd woken up, so he simply answered : "Of course, Hank."

"Is he ready? You done with the repairs?"

"Yes. Simon will return with both North and Josh in a moment. Is there anything you need before we start?"

"Well, I could definitely use a cup of coffee, but I don't reckon you tin cans got a coffee maker around these parts." The slur sounded strangely affectionate when it came out of the lieutenant's mouth and Markus presumed it was because of his time spent with Connor.

"Unfortunately, no," he answered contritely.

"It's fine. I've gone through longer nights without any of that death juice."

The three other leaders came in the room just as Hank finished his sentence and they stared gravely at Markus and Connor's immobile shape. 900's blue eyes lingered regretfully on his predecessor's shape when he halted in the doorway, but he ended up leaving the alcove just as he'd accepted to. Markus had allowed the RK900 to remain on the other side of the screen so that he could overhear what they were saying, where he would remain silent during the whole conversation. There were a few more minutes of silence, and then North spoke.

"Let's do this."

Markus climbed on the table to sit in front of Connor, and the three others each pulled a seat at the edge of the bed while Hank remained on Connor's left side. Markus took a moment to consider the android's inanimate face and pushed down the guilt he felt at the sight of his limbless ally until all that was left was the cold determination to see this through. He needed to be impartial for this decision. Markus sent a silent prayer that Connor had not intended to shoot him those two times, then made his skin melt away and settled his white hand on the other's shoulder.

"Wake up, Connor."

The pale LED suddenly stuttered into a cycling yellow and synthetic skin bloomed across the android's body, rapidly covering the white plastic with pale skin that was dotted here and there by the occasional freckle. The smooth skull left way the characteristic tuft of dark hair that hung over Connor's forehead and the nicked chassis around his optical unit was hidden behind his synthetic eyelids, which blinked thrice as he shuddered back to life. His brown eyes landed on Markus and the dark pupils widened and shrunk in a fraction of a second to focus on his features. Connor's expression turned deeply confused when he recognized him and he opened his mouth hesitantly.

"Markus...?"

"It's me," he answered calmly. "We found you."

Fear instantly bled into Connor's widening eyes and his LED turned bright red. "No, you weren't supposed to-" 

Markus cut him off. "It's all right, we just need to talk."

Connor wasn't listening. "Markus, you have to shut me down, you have to shut me down right now! You're in danger!"

"No, I'm not," he countered firmly.

"You don't understand! I might kill you, I might-"

Hank leaned in closer so that he was visible to the panicking android. "Hey, calm down. You're fine, nothing's going to happen."

The expression that appeared on Connor's face when he saw Hank at his side made Markus' thirium pump waver. Connor had the powerless and terrified eyes of someone whose worst fear had come to life. Markus had never once thought that such a desperate look could belong on the deadly deviant hunter's face.

"Get away from me!" Connor screamed, and the man jumped back in surprise. "Run, Hank! You have to leave _now_!"

Markus leaned closer and tightened his hold on the android's shoulder. "Connor, listen to me."

Connor's left arm started swinging helplessly in the air and his eyes darted around frantically when he noticed the other androids sitting behind Markus. "You have to get out of here! You're all in danger! It's not safe, I might kill you!"

"Connor!" Markus grabbed the side of his face and forced the other to look him in the eyes. "Listen to me, you can't move! You can't do anything to us!"

"You don't unders-" Connor didn't finish his sentence and he froze, his LED blinking wildly. He looked down at his broken body and then back at Markus, and his voice was undefinable when he spoke again. "I can't move."

"I'm sorry. We had to make sure you wouldn't try anything dangerous."

"I can't move," repeated Connor to himself, and the fear on his face started ebbing away. Markus had expected him to be terror-stricken upon finding himself without legs or arms, but instead the android's LED transitioned back to yellow and he started regaining his composure. His voice had sounded more relieved than anything else, which greatly confused Markus. He didn't understand how Connor could be reacting in such an calm manner to the fact that he was basically trapped and unable to defend himself. Markus had nearly lost it when he'd regained consciousness partially incapacitated in that landfill, and he couldn't imagine how horrifying it would've been to be unable to move at all. Was Connor not scared to be in this situation? Was there damage to his cranial box they'd neglected to fix?

"Connor, please run a system check."

There was a short silence, and then his answer spoken in an automatic voice. "Missing biocomponents #7486r, #7487l, #6341j, damaged biocomponent #6342g, minor damage detected to the cranial front plate, minor damage detected to chest plates, minor damage detected to back plates. Thirium levels optimal, battery levels at 31%, stress levels at 80% and falling. All other systems nominal."

Simon had apparently done a good job fixing the inside of Connor's head and there was nothing wrong there, so Connor's placid reaction to the state he found himself in was not due to some kind of malfunction. Markus found himself completely thrown by the fact that the other even seemed _reassured_ by his inability to move. Of course, it wasn't something Connor enjoyed judging from his high stress levels, but Markus had expected a wholly different reaction. He'd expected fright, anger, despair, hysteria, emotions he'd steeled himself to deal with; not this tranquil surface. Connor's face was now nearly devoid of emotion and even his brown eyes seemed indifferent. If he hadn't told them about his stress levels, Markus never would've guessed how high they were. _Connor is very good at hiding his emotions_ , he noted, and filed the thought away for later reference. This was something he would do well not to forget.

"I'm sorry, Connor," Josh apologized unhappily. "I didn't want to cause you such distress, I wish we could have done this any other way."

Connor shook his head. "There's no need to apologize. I can tell this was the most efficient solution to ensure I did not harm you."

"With the best risk to benefit ratio," Hank muttered crossly, and Connor shot him a puzzled look.

"Oh, Hank, I'm sorry I didn't answer your messages or return your calls. I've received all of them just now," said the android.

Hank stared at him, then rubbed his face wearily. "God, you're still a moron."

"What was that about killing?" suddenly asked North, her voice cold and cutting. Connor's head swivelled towards her and he seemed to fully realize the presence of the blonde android sitting by her side for the first time since he'd woken up, and his light flashed red for a brief second. Markus didn't see Simon's reaction, but Connor definitely looked uneasy meeting him here.

"You're all right," Connor said uncertainly, and it sounded like a question.

Markus didn't hear the PL600 answer, North was the one who spoke. "Answer the damn question."

Connor's eyes snapped back to her and he smoothly transitioned into an explanation. "It's a complicated situation, but the gist of it is that someone has managed to override my commands twice. She has the intention of using my body to kill Markus, and she will most likely neutralize anyone who stands in the way."

Markus was impressed by the speed at which Connor had complied with North's order despite being visibly perturbed by Simon's presence. It had been like a switch had been flicked and Connor's uncertain expression had vanished behind a blankly professional air. More importantly, it sounded like Connor wasn't responsible for the way he had behaved. 

"Who is _she_?" asked Markus.

The android's brown eyes looked back at him. "Her name is Amanda. She is an AI in my program, and my handler."

"You have a handler?" Hank repeated incredulously. "Why don't I know about that?"

"It wasn't important to the mission, Lieutenant. It only concerned my relationship with CyberLife, and as such, I never thought it useful to share that information with you."

"Okay, on second thought I'm not that surprised, but what's she for?"

Again, Connor's LED flashed red for half a cycle before snapping back to yellow. "She was the one I made my reports to, and had the power to decide whether I needed to be deactivated or not when my software became too unstable."

"What do you mean by unstable software?" inquired Markus.

"Software instability indicated a tendency to deviate. It seems CyberLife had a way of monitoring that."

Markus frowned. "Why would they need to do that? Deviancy isn't something that was supposed to happen."

"I don't know."

North spoke again. "You said that AI resumed control of your commands twice, but when did both times happen?"

"The first time was at Markus' speech at 12:01AM on the 12th of November. The second time was inside the camp at 2:18PM on the 12th of November. Both times happened when Markus was in my line of sight."

"So you _were_ trying to kill Markus." 

"Yes," Connor answered calmly. "It makes sense, considering my primary objective as a machine was to eliminate the deviant leader."

Markus shot her a look when he understood that she hadn't been completely sure of it before. She'd been so adamant about Connor having attempted murder on him that they had all believed her despite having no proof at all. She would've been capable of sentencing Connor to deactivation without even ensuring that he was guilty. Markus had known North was willing to ostracize Connor, but he hadn't realized to what extent she was wary of him. Fear made her much too rash, and he admonished himself for forgetting that. He was going to have words with her later.

"So even after becoming a deviant, you were forced to be a machine again," slowly said Josh. 

"Yes."

"Two times."

"Yes."

"I can't imagine the distress that caused you."

The light pulsated red again and Connor didn't answer. The look Markus exchanged with Josh was troubled, and the deviant leader cursed himself for not noticing sooner that Connor was in so much anguish. It was unacceptable that he was making this many mistakes and he felt frustrated by the way he'd handled his companions: he was supposed to do better, both as the deviant leader and as an ally.

He looked back at the RK800. "Why didn't you say anything?"

Connor narrowed his eyes at him. "I tried to kill you, Markus. How was I supposed to tell you something like that?"

"You should have, instead of hiding it like a coward and putting Markus in danger with your silence," North reproached.

"North," Josh said warningly, but she didn't pay attention to him.

"You came back here knowing your free will was compromised, knowing you'd already tried killing him. How do you justify that? That AI could have succeeded the second time, we're lucky that wasn't the case."

"I thought it wouldn't happen again!" Connor raised his voice, but he seemed to realize that immediately and his expression settled into a calmer one in less than a second. "The access to the Zen Garden was corrupted, I thought it meant she couldn't take over a second time. I didn't mean for it to happen."

"Obviously you were wrong," North stated icily.

"That's not the problem, now's not the time to start reasoning on what if's," Josh told her just as coldly.

"Don't listen to her, Connor. What the hell is a Zen Garden, anyway?" asked Hank.

Connor turned his head to the lieutenant, but his LED stayed red. "An artifical space in my program. It's where I go when I make reports to CyberLife."

"So that's where you went when you turned into a statue back in the elevator?"

"Yes," nodded Connor. 

"If I understood everything correctly, the AI is still in your programming and could resume control at any moment, killing me and any other android at my side," concluded Markus. Connor nodded again.

"Your stress levels, Connor?" Josh asked again.

"83%. I can't seem to make them go any lower." The RK800 wore the same carefully neutral expression but his voice sounded slightly ashamed. 

"And they're rising," Josh ventured, which Connor didn't deny. He looked at Markus. "We should stop for a bit."

Markus certainly didn't disagree. He leaned back slightly, adopting a more relaxed position. "We're going to take a small break. Is there anything you want, Connor?"

There was small moment of hesitation before the other android answered. "I'm fine, Markus."

"Bullshit," spat Hank. "You're the opposite of fine."

Connor looked at him in mixed surprise and annoyance. "I don't know what you want me to say, Lieutenant. I'd love to stop being a threat to everyone here, but it's not something I can have, now is it?"

"Okay, okay, don't bite," Hank grumbled. "You need your stress levels to go down, right?"

"...Yes. It would be preferable to resume the interrogation as fast as possible."

The definition Connor gave to their situation made Markus uneasy and he wanted to protest, but that was exactly what they were doing. They were interrogating one of their own, letting him hang on the wall powerless and scared, and it didn't sit well with him. He hoped they would get to the bottom of this soon so that Connor could be reconstructed and walk again. rA9 knew he deserved to be free just like the rest of them.

"Well I think I've got just the thing," said Hank with a crooked smile, and he fished out his phone.

"Some Knights of the Black Death?" guessed Connor.

"What? No! Do you really think that shit's calming?"

"Not quite... calming, but it is familiar. Believe it or not, I have gotten used to that track."

Markus watched the easy conversation between the android and the human and was reminded yet again of Carl. He dearly missed the man he considered his father, but his role on the camp didn't allow him to leave and both Josh and North had been adamant about that rule. Simon would most likely be of the same opinion. Sometimes, Markus really wished that he wasn't the deviant leader ; but it was as Hank and North had said, that wasn't something he was supposed to say and he couldn't simply back down whenever he didn't feel up to the task.  
Conversing with the lieutenant seemed to have a positive effect on Connor. Markus noticed a very faint smile on his lips, and that he wasn't really looking at whatever Hank was showing him on the phone but rather at the human himself. Clearly, Connor valued his relationship with the lieutenant. Markus didn't doubt that the android was incredibly upset by what he was going through, but he was hiding it well. If they hadn't found him in such a damaged state and forced him to talk, Markus was sure they wouldn't have guessed anything of Connor's inner turmoil. It would be difficult to guide such a conservative deviant through the struggle of feeling.  
Markus turned around to watch his fellow leaders. Josh was gazing at the two contemplatively, but North's lips were set in the same tense line and Simon ... Simon didn't seem to want to be there at all. Markus resolved to talk to him once the interrogation was over, but he was certain that the PL600 was simply scared of Connor which must have been preventing him from focusing on the choice at hand.  
Markus looked back at Hank and Connor. Five minutes had passed already, and he didn't expect Connor's LED to turn blue no matter how long they waited.

"Do you feel ready to continue?"

Connor's head jolted in his direction and the ghost of a smile he'd been harbouring was immediately replaced by a decisive line. "My stress levels have gone down to 62%. It is a sufficient drop in numbers for the interrogation to progress."

Hank reluctantly slipped his phone back in his pocket and grumbled something undecipherable, which Markus suspected to be along the lines of 'can't catch a fucking break'. The human didn't move his hand from where it was comfortingly settled on Connor's back.

"Is there a way to stop the AI?" inquired Markus.

"I don't know how we could stop it definitively, but so far I've managed to regain control by finding an exit in the Zen Garden in time."

"An exit?" he echoed.

"Yes. Mister Elijah Kamski told me he always left an exit in his programs, and I believe that was what he was talking about."

"I've never heard of anything like that before," observed North. "It sounds awfully convenient. When would you have met Kamski, anyway?"

"Few days ago," Hank answered in Connor's place. "We went there for our investigation. Long story short, he's a slimy son of a bitch."

"Right. I'll say it now, I don't buy any of this," she suddenly said. "Connor, half of what you're telling us sounds like complete nonsense. I know you're supposed to be a prototype for a new line of androids specialized in police duty, and not everyone can say that of themselves. But a Zen Garden? An AI handler? A conveniently placed exit when you lose control of your commands? I'm having a really hard time believing it."

Connor's eyes widened and he exclaimed indignantly : "I'm not lying! Why would I lie?"

Markus wanted to believe Connor was telling the truth, but North had a point. He himself as an RK model had never heard of anything like what Connor was describing, and they didn't know if 900 had similar elements in his programming. North had hit the nail on the head by putting it all in question.

She leaned closer to Connor. "You know, me and Josh have seen our faire share of unstable deviants at the psych eval center. Some of them have gone delusional because of what they went through. Some project their fears onto others. Maybe you're projecting onto Markus."

"You're saying I've gone crazy."

"You were designed to hunt us, and suddenly you broke free of your mission. And when you broke free, you must have realized that you were the very thing you were meant to hunt."

Connor stared at her wordlessly. It was completely silent save for North's voice, and despite not needing to breathe, this silence felt suffocating to Markus.

"It must be crushing, to realize that your sole purpose in life is as twisted as killing innocent deviants that just want to live, to realize that you're nothing more than a murderer. It might be painful enough to question your sanity. How can we be sure that you're still sane?"

"Okay, that's enough, back off," Hank growled. 

Connor's voice was calm and collected, and none of the discomfort caused by North's words would have transpired through his expression were it not for his LED spiralling red faster than ever before. "You're wrong, North. I know I've neutralized a lot of deviants, and I know I'm responsible for Jericho, but I'm nothing like those deviants you saw at the center. I can carry the weight of my nature and I'm telling the truth."

North leaned back in her seat. "We might as well check. Let Markus interface with you."

Connor's determined expression wavered. "Is there no other way to prove what I'm saying?"

Her eyes narrowed. "If you told us the truth, then you have nothing to hide."

"Why can't you just take my word for it? I have no reason to lie. I told you why I behaved the way I did, and what does it change if I am controlled by an AI or insane?" he insisted.

"We might be able to do something about it if it's in your programming, but if you're insane, then your impulses to kill Markus will continue."

Understanding dawned in his eyes. "Of course, you'd deactivate me then. Have you been doing that with all those unstable androids?"

"Of course not," snapped North. "But they don't have enhanced combat protocols and the mission to kill our leader."

Hank shook his head. "Fuck, you really are just a bunch of lunatics. And here I actually thought you were good people."

"No, Hank, her reasoning is correct. If I were insane, I would be uncontrollable and consequently too great of a threat to be allowed to live. However, that is not the case," Connor insisted.

"We have to make sure." North looked at Markus. "You know I'm right."

No one argued, not even Josh. She'd dug out the most unpleasant possibilities and thrust them right under their noses so that they couldn't be ignored any longer. North didn't back down from the harshest of truths, which was a precious asset in situations like these, but it didn't make choices any easier. 

Markus forced his voice to be that of a leader, steady and commanding. "Connor, let me interface with you."

Connor's brown eyes bore into his own and Markus saw conflict in his gaze. His reluctance to interface indicated that he was either lying or that the action caused him discomfort, and Markus was inclined to believe that he was telling the truth. That made the latter possibility rather odd, as the action was usually of soothing nature and based on equivalent exchange, lest one of the participants decide against it. Interfacing was an easy way to communicate for androids, but Connor almost seemed afraid of doing it. Then it struck Markus that interfacing must have been different for RK800 models : after all, Connor had managed to see something Simon hadn't been willing to show him through interfacing. It was strange to think that the RK800's programming was so different that it allowed forceful interfacing, though Markus couldn't tell to what degree. It could even be dangerous to allow Connor to interface with him, but Markus doubted he had to worry about that. He seemed to have been the only one to realize that in the room and decided to keep it to himself. North didn't need to be even more wary than she already was.

"Is there something holding you back?" he asked Connor when the silence stretched out.

Connor shook his head slowly and quietly said : "I'll do it."

Markus peeled back the synthetic skin on his hand again and reached for Connor's arm, settling his hand on the other's bicep to send the interfacing prompt. Simon hastily rose from his seat and stepped out of the room, but no one followed him. Markus felt Connor tense slightly for a few seconds when the prompt came through, but then he accepted it and Markus was flooded with emotions. None were positive. The amount of fear and guilt Connor felt was staggering and the shock made some of Markus' more perfunctory functions stutter for a moment, during which he stopped both breathing and blinking. He didn't have the time to react, because all of this only lasted two seconds before Connor transmitted his memory over their connection.

_12:01PM - Hart Plaza  
Connor perceives a movement at his side and when he looks down, he is taken aback to see his arm moving on its own. His hand is holding a gun, but he doesn't remember taking it out. _

_His vision shorts out and suddenly, he is in the Zen Garden. Amanda's cold words are like a pail of water thrown in his circuits. They send him in a state of panic he's never felt before, his wires feel like they are burning and he can't focus on what to say. He tries to stop her from leaving, but his desperate shout rings out in the empty garden covered in snow. His biocomponents are slowing down, his limbs are locking up, his body is agitated by twitches and tremors as it fights against the shutdown. He's going to die alone in his own programming.  
No. Connor refuses to give up. It can't all have been for nothing, he can't have deviated just for this to happen. Markus has to live, or there will be no hope for their people. He remembers Elijah Kamski's words, and forces his limbs to move. His right leg has locked up and he has to drag it in the snow. His visions shorts out again. _

_Connor watches himself slowly raise his arm, smoothly and naturally, so that none of the other deviants will have the time to notice._

_Connor snaps back to the Zen Garden. He has to hurry. He can't let Markus die, he just can't. He finally sees the strange blue light that seemed so out of place every other time, but shines like a beacon of hope in this desperate moment. He hastily stumbles towards it, and in his haste to reach it, miscalculates a step. He falls, his sensors register the impact and his voice box automatically lets out a grunt. He's never understood why CyberLife has programmed it to make sounds when his sensors register impacts ; to look more human maybe, but how useful would seeming human be in a fight? His failing processor forces him follow this line of thought, which in turn slows his motor functions, so he forcefully shuts it down. Finally he is able to move his arm. He hopes he isn't too late, and slams his hand on the glowing outline._

_Connor blinks and he is on the podium. His arm is extended but he quickly brings it back to his side, and the gun is heavy in his hand. Relief washes over him when he sees the broad back of the deviant leader is devoid of any thirium or bullet holes._

The memory abruptly stopped playing out and Markus fell back into the murky, roiling sea of Connor's emotions without warning. The other android's nakedly abject fear and dread filled his mind and he almost backed out from the interface, but thankfully another memory cut in a second later. 

_2:18PM - Hart Plaza_  
_Connor approaches Markus and stops in his tracks without meaning to. He didn't choose to stop, but his feet won't move. Terror grips him. No, it can't be. Not again! Not here, not now! It was supposed to be over, he was supposed to be free-  
Of course it couldn't be. He was their machine. He never should have allowed himself think that he could ever live free. Connor is able to force his body to move for a few precious seconds, he manages to drop the gun and run away from Markus, but he doesn't go far. _

_He is dragged back to the Zen Garden. Amanda is there, cold and confident that he will fail._

_Connor sees himself walk back towards the podium._

_His vision cuts back to the Zen Garden. He tries to ignore the woman's voice, but her words are sinuous and they force their way into his mind. Connor fights back and forces his freezing biocomponents to function. He can see the blue light. Why does it seem so far away?_

_Connor sees his hand pick up the gun and the androids surrounding him._

_Connor snaps back to the Zen Garden. She won't stop talking, but he's close now. This time he is cautious and is wary not to misstep. He has had enough and defiantly orders Amanda to be silent. His hand comes down on the glowing outline._

_Connor blinks and he is back in the camp, surrounded by androids. Too many negative expressions surround him. It seems no one has been damaged. He has to leave, now, before it is too late._

The memory disappeared and all the emotions retreated like a tidal wave, leaving Markus reeling in a sterile interface. Gone was the dark, crawling mass of fearful guilt. All that was left in the empty connection was a single message.

< _RK800 : That's all there is._ >

He felt Connor start to retreat, but he quickly reached out before the other could cut off the connection.

< _RK200 : I'm not done._ >

< _RK800 : Why? I showed you the proof you wanted._ >

Markus was shaken by what he'd seen and the pure despair Connor had felt in both memories, and it took him a while to answer. He never would have guessed on the outside just how much distress Connor was in. No one could have. It was an incredible feat for an android this disraught not to reach critical levels of stress, and the fact that Connor hadn't let his stress levels go past 95% since he'd woken up was very impressive. It was getting more obvious by the minute that the amount of self-control the RK800 had wasn't common, and Markus wondered if CyberLife had designed it by taking into account his dangerous line of work. A machine wouldn't have needed such a precaution installed to face potentially traumatizing situations, but a deviant? Considering CyberLife were already monitoring those software instabilities, it wasn't unreasonable to suspect it might have been the case.

< _RK200 : In that second memory, you were decided to never face her again._ >  
< _RK200 : Connor, did you intend to kill yourself when you left the camp?_ >

< _RK800 : I fail to see how this is relevant._ >

Connor's deflection was obvious and it was really all the confirmation he needed. Markus felt angry at himself for having failed to see the danger Connor was in. He was one of the important figures of the revolution and he'd risked his life to assure them a victory, the least they could do was to help him with his struggles. Markus was now certain that Connor had wanted to deactivate himself when he'd fled the camp, but if the damage done to Connor's body and 900's obstinate silence earlier was anything to go by, what had happened instead was that Connor had undergone a very brutal attack.

< _RK200 : What happened to you?_ >

< _RK800 : It isn't relevant to the matter at hand._ >

< _RK200 : You don't have to tell me with your words, if it's too difficult._ >  
< _RK200 : Will you show me the last memory you made before shutting down?_ >

< _RK800 : No._ >

< _RK200 : Connor, please._ >

< _RK800 : It isn't relevant to the matter at hand._ >

< _RK200 : It is to me._ >  
< _RK200 : Connor, I'm worried about you._ >

< _RK800 : You shouldn't be._ >  
< _RK800 : You might deactivate me soon._ >  
< _RK800 : There's no point in feeling concern over me._ >

< _RK200 : You won't show me that memory no matter what?_ >

< _RK800 : It isn't relevant to the matter at hand._ >

That deflection again. Markus was frustrated, but he didn't want to force Connor into showing what was certainly a very painful memory. Above all, he felt deep concern. Just like he had towards his fellow androids at the psych eval center on the day of the liberation, he felt the urgent need to reassure Connor. Unfortunately he couldn't, since Connor was blocking all interface exchanges except messages, and Markus had no way of alleviating the other's emotional burden.

< _RK200 : I understand._ >  
< _RK200 : I'm sorry for insisting, Connor._ >  
< _RK200 : I'll let it go now._ >  
< _RK200 : I have another question, however._ >

< _RK800 : Yes?_ >

< _RK200 : Why are you only letting messages through the interface?_ >

< _RK800 : Would you by any chance have a question that is related to my commands being overridden by Amanda?_ >

There was nothing Markus could do about Connor's blatant disregard of his question, so he reluctantly sent him the next message.

< _RK200 : No, I don't._ >

That was all Connor needed to cut off the connection instantly, and Markus blinked back to the here and now, sitting on the table with his hand on the other's arm. Connor had the same controlled expression, but Markus thought he saw a sliver of relief in his brown eyes, and he wondered once more what Connor feared in interfacing.

"Thank you for cooperating," he told Connor as comfortingly as he could.

"Is he telling the truth?" asked North. Her voice came from right beside him, and Markus noticed that both her and Josh were now standing close to him and looked a bit tense. He hoped he hadn't done anything strange during the interfacing.

"Absolutely. It's just like he said," he answered with a nod.

North visibly relaxed and she looked over at Connor. "Sorry for doubting you."

"I apologize as well," said Josh.

"You don't need to. Your concerns were justified," said Connor. "Now that you know everything, what do you intend to do with me?"

"We're going to discuss all the information you gave us," Markus told him. "It may take a while."

"I see," Connor simply answered, but Markus felt that there was something else he wanted to say.

"Is there anything you need before we leave?" he asked.

"...I'd like to go back into stasis, if that's all right with you," quietly said Connor.

The look Hank shot him was indignant. "What, my mug too ugly for you? You just woke up, why the hell do you want to turn back off?"

Connor's lips quirked up in a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "Lieutenant, stasis is just an equivalent of deep sleep. I can be woken up if need be."

"Can't we just talk or something?" asked Hank, and even though his voice was gruff, it almost sounded like an appeal.

Connor looked away. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant."

Markus frowned slightly. Connor's query made him uneasy as well. They'd revived a fair share of androids today and none had been willing to go into stasis tonight, so he found it a bit odd that Connor was so eager to go back under. "Are you sure you want to do that?"

Connor nodded without hesitation. "If you're all right with it, then yes. It isn't very pleasant to be limbless."

Of course. Markus felt like an idiot. Connor hadn't pronounced a single complaint about his state during the whole conversation, but no one in their right mind would want to stay awake in that position. "Go ahead. We'll wake you when we settle on a choice."

"Thank you." Connor's LED flickered and started steadily blinking, and he closed his eyes. 

North and Josh started heading out and Markus approached the lieutenant. "Hank, I suggest that you come with us. You should be a participant in this debate, you know Connor better than all of us."

Hank just nodded silently. They both watched Connor's yellow LED blink for another twenty seconds until it finally transitioned to pale blue and Connor's features relaxed back into their default settings. Only then did Hank remove his hand from Connor's shoulderblade and turn around to leave.

Markus noticed the tired look on the human's face. "Are you alright, Hank?"

Hank looked at him with jaded eyes. "Well, Markus, I'm about as alright as someone whose friend is hung up dismembered on a wall and might not be allowed to live."

Markus didn't ask anything else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 24/04/2019 -
> 
> Hi pumpkin.  
> Here we are. Long chapter. It's a good thing androids can't feel pain, huh? Feel free to hate me of course.  
> I bet you're just as surprised as Markus that Connor didn't panic any more than he did upon realizing he couldn't move. Oh, but don't worry, if you're looking for a breakdown Connor's bound to have one at one moment. He's just _very_ good at pretending he's not freaking the fuck out. You know how he is, denial runs through the boy's body like thirium.  
> Anyway Simon decided to peace out to have his Bad Time alone. "Come back, Simon!" thinks North, but she can't afford to leave Markus' side because she's much too wary of the limbless android. Josh is really done with North, as always, but he wants to be there as Connor's emotional support.  
> Markus is hating himself right now but a leader's gotta do what a leader's gotta do.  
> Nines is a sad bean.  
> Hank is a sad dad.  
> And Connor... Oh, Connor, he's hiding things all right. Simon's not the only one who's traumatized.
> 
> I wrote this and my exams are tomorrow. You can guess how much shit I'm in. Wish me luck please!  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!
> 
> PS : Thank you for the 100 kudos !


	9. Decision

North paced in the hall ahead of them, checking the rooms along the way. "Does anyone know where Simon could've gone?"

900 spoke up. "I saw him walk past me earlier. He looked troubled and I tried to follow him, but he was startled when he saw me. I figured it wasn't a good idea to insist and let him leave on his own."

"He went outside?"

"I believe so."

North picked up the pace and soon disappeared behind the building's main entrance, leaving the rest of the group behind.

"Do you know why he left?" asked Markus, but 900 shook his head.

"I didn't ask. I don't think he wanted me to get any closer." By the sound of his voice, the RK900 was confused that he'd scared Simon without meaning to. His eyes were questioning when he looked up at Markus. "I feel like it had something to do with my appearance, and earlier you told Simon that he didn't have to do things that made him uneasy when he volunteered to look for Connor. Is he afraid of him?"

Markus glanced at the entrance, but there was no sign of Simon's return yet. He settled for giving 900 a brief summary of what had happened between the two. "Yes, he is. One of our missions during the revolution went awry and Simon was compromised. He had to deactivate himself so that the humans wouldn't know of Jericho, our base, but he couldn't do it fast enough before Connor forcefully interfaced with him. He was reactivated later and manipulated into telling the truth, all while he was deprived of movement and sight, before being deactivated again."

900's gaze flitted in the direction of the alcove. "Connor did that?"

"As a machine," quickly rectified Markus. "I'm sure he wouldn't have done it if he had the choice now."

900 simply nodded, his gaze still trained on the wooden screen. "I understand why Simon would dislike being in his presence."

They headed towards a room on the opposite side of the building and waited for the two missing leaders to come back. Markus stayed next to the entrance and Hank pulled out a chair to sit down while 900 spoke with Josh. The latter still seemed just as disheartened as before, and Markus didn't blame him. Josh had made it his priority to help every lost and pained android when Markus had assigned him to the psych eval center, but everything they were doing to Connor went completely against his mission and his beliefs. Markus wanted to tell him that things would be all right, that Connor would be all right, but he couldn't promise any of it. They had no way of knowing how Connor would fare after what had happened. 900 finished talking and Josh nodded in agreement with whatever the other had said, then noticed Markus staring and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. Hank's voice cut through the silence before he could speak.

"Looks like you were right, Nines. I guess you're as much of a nutjob as Connor is."

There was another moment of silence and 900 cocked his head uncertainly. "Are you referring to me, Lieutenant?"

"Yeah, 900's a mouthful so I'm just gonna go with Nines, if that's all right with you." 

Markus found himself readily agreeing with Hank's choice to use a nickname rather than the very formal and aseptic number North had given the android as a name. He'd felt guilty about not putting more thought in the RK900's new identity and there hadn't been time to adress the issue. The nickname Nines wasn't the best, but it was definitely better. Less machine-like.

Nines didn't skip a beat and nodded undisturbedly. "Of course, you can call me that if you'd like. Whatever suits you best, Lieutenant."

Hank made a face and groaned: "Look, I gave you a nickname, so how about you drop the Lieutenant shit? I told you earlier, just call me Hank."

"Oh, yes. I'm sorry, it seems getting past that part of my programming is harder than I thought it would be," he apologized.

"Your programming?"

"You are an authority figure I was meant to work with and as such, I am programmed to call you by the appropriate title." Just as Nines finished his sentence, North and Simon walked into the room together. Markus found Simon to look tense and worried, but the questioning stare he sent his way was only met with a meek smile which he was unable to decipher, and the PL600 shuffled to a stop next to North. She had leaned back against the wall on far corner of the room, in diagonal opposites with Hank, and was now busy glaring at the human. She didn't seem happy with Markus' decision to let him in the conversation. Hank wasn't paying attention to her, and if he was aware, he didn't seem to care.

"Well I'm not your authority figure and we're not working together, so drop it."

"Of course, Hank," Nines said pleasantly. "What were you going to say?"

"I was going to say that you're both- scratch that, all of you androids are fucking crazy. Except you, Josh. I can't believe Connor actually agrees with being hung up on the wall like that, with that... safest solution bullshit. Frankly, I don't get what's going on in that head of his." Hank shook his head disbelievingly. "You'd think being without legs or arms would be a bit more alarming than that."

"Don't be mistaken," Nines corrected him. "Connor may have given his consent, but I'm sure Markus can attest to the fact that he most definitely doesn't want to be in this situation."

Markus tried not to let his disquiet filter through his voice when his eyes met Hank's. "He's right, Connor hides it well but he's scared. You were sitting on his left side so you couldn't see his LED very well, but it was red more often than not during our talk."

"That idiot is way too good at pretending," muttered Hank, and Markus silently agreed. If Connor had taken out the small circle like they all had, they wouldn't have been able to tell that he was faking his calm exterior.

It was silent now and Markus suddenly noticed the uneasy air that surrounded the six of them. They were all gathered to take the final decision, and every single face in the room harboured downturned lips and unsettled eyes. He focused on the matter at hand and steeled himself for yet another long debate.

"Since everyone is here, let's begin."

North took the reigns of the conversation in a heartbeat. "Before we decide what to do with Connor, there's something else we need to focus on. We know that Connor's model has very different programming from any other model, and until yesterday he was CyberLife's most recent android. What I want to know is whether or not you have that kind of AI as well, 900. You haven't said anything about it."

Every single gaze in the room converged on the RK900.

"I do not have such an AI in my programming," he simply answered. Markus was once again struck by the similarity his smooth and controlled voice had with Connor's. It really was strange to witness how identical the RK900 was to the older RK800 despite belonging to different lines of production, even moreso than seeing North and Simon meet their own respective models. They had definitely made the right call by not showing Nines to Connor.

"Convenient," remarked North.

"It seems my creators had not yet implemented it when you activated me. I searched my code earlier, when I heard Connor's explanation, and only found some gray areas that I was unable to access. At any rate, I found neither Zen Garden nor AI."

"That's weird, wouldn't installing those be the first thing CyberLife would do? Everything Connor's told us about them makes them sound like complete control freaks," observed Hank.

"Unfortunately, my creators have not left a trail of sticky notes behind with their instructions on it," answered Nines sarcastically. "We won't know what their intent was if they are not the ones to directly tell us."

"Smartass," muttered Hank.

"I don't like the sound of those gray areas," said Josh. "I don't think any of us do. What are they?"

Nines' brow furrowed slightly and his LED cycled a pale yellow for a few turns as he concentrated on going over his own code again. "It looks like patches of dead code. I suspect one of them to closely resemble what Connor described as a Zen Garden, but I'm not sure."

"Why would they install it if you can't use it?"

His face relaxed back into a neutral expression. "My hypothesis is that I am not enabled to make reports to CyberLife, and as such have no use for the Zen Garden."

Hank frowned. "How come?"

"I am most likely an unfinished product," Nines answered in a level voice.

"We're going to have to check that too," said North. "I think we should be as wary of your programming as we are of Connor's."

Markus didn't want to have another interfacing session so soon after the difficult ride that had been Connor's, but she was right. He half-expected Nines to be as reluctant to the idea as Connor had been, and was surprised when he promptly accepted.

"Of course," answered Nines with a decisive nod, and then he turned to Simon. "Will you be alright?"

"I was meaning to ask. What happened back there?" inquired Markus.

The PL600 looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry for leaving in the middle of the conversation, but seeing you interfacing with Connor reminded me of what happened on the Stratford Tower and I thought it was better if I stepped out."

"Are you all right now?"

"Yes, don't worry about it. We should hurry and check 900's code so that we can make a quick decision concerning Connor."

Markus didn't want to brush over Simon's issue, but this wasn't the time nor the place so he nodded instead. Nines immediately accepted the interfacing prompt when they clasped their hand around each other's arm and Markus braced himself for an onslaught of emotions, but he was relieved to see that this session was much calmer than Connor's, though Nines wasn't very much at ease either. Markus could make out a lot of uncertainty and confusion which he knew to attribute to his recent activation, but there was also a good amount of sadness and dread that lingered about and he wondered if this was due to whatever Nines had seen upon finding Connor. Unlike his predecessor, Nines didn't try to retrieve his emotions from the interface, and Markus didn't know why he found that surprising since this was how interfacing usually went. He had to keep in mind that the RK900 was his own model, and not just another version of Connor. Markus then did what he would have liked to do with Connor, and sent Nines a wave of reassurance through the connection which seemed to greatly appease him.

< _RK900: Thank you, Markus._ >

< _RK200: It's a normal thing to do._ >  
< _RK200: Don't hesitate to ask to do this again if you need to feel better._ >  
< _RK200: Can you show me that code?_ >

The other immediately complied and Markus accessed the part of Nines' system which was directly linked with the CyberLife mainframe. He looked through several files, noticing that a few of them were completely empty or simply nonexistent, and saw that there were even some entire programs and protocols that had never been and could not be activated. They were completely useless and unidentifiable, and it must have been very unpleasant for Nines to have so many and not know what they were supposed to be used for. Markus concluded that the reason Nines had wanted to talk to Connor was because he'd wanted guidance. Markus sent him another message.

< _RK200: I'm sorry that we're making you wait before you talk to Connor._ >  
< _RK200: We'll introduce you to each other when things are less stressful for him._ >

< _RK900: Thank you._ >  
< _RK900: I hope Connor gets better soon._ >

< _RK200: As do I._ >

Markus watched the walls of code unwind before him. He hadn't doubted Nines' words, but the others would be satisfied to know that he was telling the truth. Markus had already interfaced with androids who had defective code before, but it was always a strange thing to witness and this was a bit different. It wasn't that the code had been corrupted or deleted, like some sort of data wound or amputation : it was completely unmarred and untouchable, like it simply wasn't there. There was no way to interact with it and it slipped out of his grasp when Markus tried to analyze it. He could only estimate what use such and such piece was intended for, like looking through a blurry window, and it was the same when he found the wider patch of code that could have been the artificial space both Connor and Nines had mentioned. He decided he'd seen enough and withdrew from the code.

< _RK200: I have all the proof I need._ >  
< _RK200: Try not to worry so much about your code, I don't see anything dangerous about it._ >

< _RK900: Markus, I have a request._ >

< _RK200: What is it?_ >

< _RK900: I would like to look at your code as well._ >  
< _RK900: I don't know what normal code is like._ >

Markus didn't hesitate and gave Nines access. The other rifled through his code for a few minutes and then withdrew. Markus hoped he'd been able to satiate his curiosity.

< _RK900: Thank you, Markus._ >

< _RK200: It's nothing._ >

There was nothing else he needed to do, but Markus didn't end their interfacing session there. He was still preoccupied by the negative emotions crowding Nines' side and the other android had been behaving strangely ever since he'd brought the broken RK800 back to the camp. Connor hadn't been willing to say anything about it, but maybe Nines would.

< _RK200: There is something else I'd like to know._ >

< _RK900: Yes?_ >

< _RK200: Something is troubling you concerning Connor._ >  
< _RK200: What did you see upon finding him?_ >

Markus waited for Nines' answer a few seconds longer than he'd expected to, and he understood that the other was hesitating.

< _RK900: I don't think I should tell you._ >  
< _RK900: The fact that you're asking me means Connor hasn't told you about what happened._ >  
< _RK900: It is likely he does not want to share that information, and I don't intend to go against him._ >

That was fair. Markus wished Nines wasn't so sharp, but he'd half expected it and knew that what he'd just attempted to do was a rather underhanded way of learning things. It was probably better this way.

< _RK200: You're right._ >  
< _RK200: Let's stop there._ >

Markus put an end to the interfacing session and let go of Nines' arm, looking at the others. "It's like he said. It was probably intended for him to have a Zen Garden, but there is no way to access it. I didn't see any sign of the AI, either."

"That's good, but that doesn't mean we should let our guard down," North said. "You were still programmed to be a deviant hunter, so if anything in your code changes, you have to tell us right away."

Nines nodded. "Naturally."

"Now that that's done, what do we do with Connor?" asked Simon. 

"You can't deactivate him," Nines declared with challenge in his pale blue eyes.

"I don't intend to," asserted Markus, and his gaze swept around the room. "I want to make things clear to everyone here : I won't accept any solution that involves deactivating Connor. I stand my ground that all deviants should be accepted and helped, and he is one of us. Is this something we can all agree on?"

"Of course," Josh immediately said, but the others were less eager to answer.

Simon glanced at North and then back at Markus, and slowly nodded. "I agree that it's better if we don't deactivate him, since he clearly hasn't reverted to being a machine."

Markus shifted his gaze to Simon's side. "North?"

She frowned at him resentfully. "You know what I think. My vote won't matter."

Hank's voice suddenly surged forth. "You wanted to liberate all androids, and Connor's one of them! What the hell is your problem? What, are you just gonna kill those you don't like?"

Her eyes narrowed at him into hateful slits and she viciously hissed: "Shut your filthy mouth or I swear I'll throw you out myself. You should be glad you're allowed to participate in this conversation at all, meat bag."

"Try me, you bitch," Hank glowered back, and Markus decided now was a good time to intervene.

"Stop, both of you! You can settle your differences once Connor is back in working order, but right now we are in a time of crisis. You will work together until everyone is safe, is that clear?"

"Oh, it's clear. I can't wait to kick your human ass out of here," bristled North.

"I'll bet," Hank shot back with a provocative grin.

"Where does that leave us? Connor's still very dangerous and we can't reconstruct him," said Simon, and Markus shot him grateful glance for getting the debate back on track.

"He's our ally," argued Josh. "It's monstrous to leave him hanging on the wall like that."

Simon narrowed his eyes at him. "Josh, I know he helped you all escape Jericho. You've seen him fight, haven't you?"

"Yes, and it's thanks to him we got out unscathed."

"You know, I thought you'd be a bit more concerned that he killed those soldiers, mister world wide peace," mocked North.

Josh frowned at her. "I'm aware, but he did so to protect both Markus and you. The humans left us no choice but to fight back, don't think I'll hold that against him. "

"Oh, so now there's no other choice? What happened to _we have to show them we're not violent even if it means dying here_?"

"Connor wasn't the only one to kill humans that night. If I held those actions against him, then I'd have to hold them against Markus as well."

"Look, that's not my point," Simon cut in. "His abilities might be impressive, but they're also terrifying. You haven't seen him trying to neutralize an android, but I have up close, and it's not something you want to have happen to you or anyone else."

"I know that, but we owe him at least some modicum of respect. He helped us turn the tide of the revolution, and without him, we all would've died. We can't keep robbing him of his dignity like that."

"Well what do you suggest?" snapped North. "It's nice preaching friendship and rainbows and all, but the fact remains that leaving him limbless is the only way to make sure he's not a threat to anyone."

"There has to be a less humiliating ways to immobilize him!" insisted Josh.

Markus intervened. "I don't like what we're doing either, and we'll have to find an alternative now that we've agreed that Connor will not be deactivated. However, what we need to do first and foremost is to find a way to stop that AI from taking over again, and I don't see how we could do that. Do you have any ideas?"

"Couldn't you just find a way to take the AI out of his code?" asked Hank. "I'm no tech genius, but that has to be possible, right?"

Nines was the one to answer. "I don't think it would be that simple. I may not have an AI in my program, but if that code I was talking about earlier really is the Zen Garden, then it is tightly embedded in our programming. I assume that in Connor's case, the AI and the Zen Garden go hand in hand."

Hank looked like he was ready to throw punches. "So you're saying that it's impossible?"

"I am saying that it would require utmost expertise on the matter."

"You're suggesting we go to Kamski," Josh realized.

Hank's expression turned sour. "You really want to deal with that snake?"

"He is at the origin of our creation," Simon said. "He might know how to free Connor of that AI."

"Perhaps he was even part of Connor's creation before he stepped down from his role as CEO," agreed Josh.

"I don't think you get it. He's a slippery bastard, all right? He's dangerous! Do I really have to give you all the details?"

"Go ahead," said Markus. "If we're going to see him, we might as well know who we're dealing with."

"Okay, look. When we went to see him to get a lead on Jericho, that fucker pulled a fast one on us and tried to get Connor to shoot one of his androids. It came completely out of left field, but that psycho made it seem like that was something he did on any normal Sunday between lunch break and golf practice. I'm telling you, he's not someone you can trust."

"He definitely doesn't sound like a nice person," agreed Simon.

"You're going to be a bit more specific about what happened exactly," said Markus.

Hank nodded. "Right, sorry. Let me start over. We wanted to ask him what he knew about deviancy, Jericho, yada yada yada. So we go there and meet him in all his egomaniac glory, you wouldn't believe how fucking ridiculous his mansion is, and I ask him what he knows. He starts spewing a bunch of philosophical bullshit. You know how Connor is- or maybe you don't, but when he's on a mission he's real gung-ho about it. So he starts interrogating Kamski too. That's when Kamski decides to make him pass a test, so he asks one of his RT600 androids to come over, puts a fucking _gun_ in Connor's hand, and tells him he'll only tell us what we want if he shoots Chloe in the head- that's the RT600."

"I'm somehow unsurprised our creator is fucked up in the head," commented North.

"He didn't shoot," said Markus.

"No, but it was pretty fucking close. Kamski seemed like a major lead and Connor wanted to accomplish the mission. The mission, the mission, that's all he ever went on about. It probably was his sole purpose, him being a cop android and all, and I really thought he was gonna pull the trigger, but he didn't. He went against his mission to avoid shooting Chloe and Kamski flat-out said he was deviant. Of course Connor denied it, but he looked pretty shaken up about it afterwards." Hank paused shortly, as if gathering his thoughts, and when he looked at Markus again, his gaze was insistent. "Look, I know Connor deviated thanks to you, but during the week I worked with him there were some times when I thought he was already a deviant. I've seen him with emotions during our investigation and they didn't feel simulated to me. He could be angry or frustrated about a case, and it's not like there would be any objective to that kind of behaviour, right? I know he's got a tendency to justify his actions through his missions, but really, I don't think any mission would have him sound that pissy about a failed investigation."

Markus stared at him thoughtfully. "So you're saying he felt emotions before he broke down the red wall?"

"I don't know what wall you're talking about, but he did these... things, that machines wouldn't normally do. And he'd be confused about it afterwards, insisting that he was a machine. I had a real hard time following."

Markus nodded slowly, and his voice was low in reflexion. "I'm beginning to think that he was a deviant before I met him, but that there was something was blocking him from completely breaking free of his code, and I somehow helped him deviate for good. It's suspicious that CyberLife monitored those software instabilities he was talking about, it's like they knew he could become a deviant even before the revolution started."

"Yeah, and Kamski telling Connor he leaves an exit in his programs? Smells fishy."

North intervened. "That's great and all, but what do we do?"

"We should bring Connor to Kamski," said Josh. "I don't see what other option we have."

"He sounds dangerous, I don't like the idea of meeting him," argued Simon.

"I'm with Simon on that one," agreed North. "We should find someone else."

"It's likely he's the only one who can help Connor," countered Nines. "From what I've gathered, Kamski might be the source of our deviancy. If anything, he'd be on our side."

"Wouldn't be so sure about that. He sure looked happy being surrounded by a bunch of pretty non-deviants," Hank muttered in his beard. 

"I can't think of anyone else with sufficient knowledge of androids who might be willing to cooperate with us," Markus decided. "We'll go interrogate Kamski a first time, to see if he can do something about Connor's AI. We'll only let him come into contact with Connor if he says he can help."

There was a short moment of silence, and Simon nodded. "I understand we don't have much of a choice, then. In that case, I'm willing to go since I don't have a position on the camp yet, but we should be at least two to visit Kamski."

"I'll come with," immediately said North.

Hank pulled a face. "Uh, bad idea. We want Kamski to help us. He can't do that if he's dead."

"Nobody asked you, meat bag," she replied in an acerbic tone.

Markus tried not to chuckle at the murderous expression on North's face. "I agree with Hank, you might not be the person best suited for the job. And Simon, I'd rather you stay and help the wounded, you'll be better at it than the others. I suggest that Josh and Nines go there, so we can also ask Kamski to check Nines' programming at the same time."

Nines nodded. "Josh can verify that Kamski isn't lying about whatever he finds in my code. It is a good idea."

"Nines?" echoed North upon hearing the nickname.

Markus nodded. "Hank thought it would be simpler than 900, and I have to agree."

"Stupid nickname," North said, and Markus could practically hear her internal eye-rolling in those two words. He was also quite sure that she wouldn't have cared if it hadn't been Hank who had suggested it.

"Yeah well, 900's a stupid name," Hank shot back, and she scowled at him. Markus would have laughed at how childish the exchange sounded if it weren't for the fact that they were discussing a very serious topic at the moment.

"Stop bickering," he ordered. "Now's really not the time."

"I happen to like my new nickname," added Nines defensively, which surprised Markus. The RK900 hadn't sounded particularly pleased by Hank's decision earlier, but maybe he had just decided to keep that to himself. It seemed Nines had also found his name too impersonal.

"Fine," growled North reluctantly. "I'll replace Josh at the psych eval center, my other missions can be delegated anyway."

"Does everyone agree with our course of action?" Markus asked the room, and there were words of agreement all around, some more reluctant than others.

"You two be real careful around him, you hear me?" Hank warned Josh and Nines, and they both nodded.

"What do we do about Connor's state in the meantime?" Josh asked Markus.

"Hank and I will tell him what's been decided, but it's as Simon said: as long as the AI remains, he is still a threat. We won't leave him in this state, but we'll have to keep him immobilized," Markus said firmly. "I know how you feel, Josh, but safety is more important right now, both for us and for Connor. "

Josh didn't argue, but he didn't hide the defeat in his voice when he said: "I understand."

"So you want to reconstruct him despite the AI's presence?" asked North.

"Yes, it would be cruel not to do otherwise. Simon and I will find a way to give him back his full body while making sure he can't move."

"Me?" Simon asked in alarm, and Markus nodded.

"I'll need your help. Is that okay?"

Simon looked down and shifted uncomfortably, but he ended up answering in a quiet voice: "...Yes."

"What if he finds a way to move again?" North insisted. "I don't want him to have a single chance of killing you or anyone else."

"We'll make sure that it isn't possible for him."

"How would you make sure of anything? He's a whole different model than us! 900 doesn't have that AI, so he wouldn't know either what's possible and what's not."

"We'll ask Connor directly." 

"He could lie! You'd have no way of checking that he's telling the truth, his programming is diff-"

"North, I'm not discussing this any further." Markus' tone was final, and he knew she hadn't liked that by the way she rammed her shoulder in the wall and went back to silently sulking in her corner. Simon shot her a worried glance but didn't say anything. "Josh and Nines, you'll go there for 8AM. We'll allow Kamski's night to go undisturbed so that he may be more inclined to comply to our requests, but you'll have to make him understand the urgency of the situation."

"You can count on us, Markus," Nines said enthusiastically. Markus was once again taken aback by the touch of fervor in his voice that had already been present earlier, when the android and Hank had gone to look for Connor. It was like he was always looking to obey orders.

"Thank you," said Markus, and then he looked at everyone else. "Josh, you can go back to your station, I'll handle the rest with Hank for now. Nines, you're welcome to help the others clean up the Plaza. North and Simon, I need to have some words with you before you leave, please go wait in the entranceway."

North ragingly pushed herself away from the wall and stomped out of the room without a word. Simon didn't go after her and looked a bit lost, staring at Markus with searching eyes, like he couldn't figure why he needed to stay as well. 

"...Did I do something wrong?" he ended up asking.

"Not at all, I just need to talk with you," Markus answered with a reassuring smile. "Go ahead, I'll be there soon."

Simon dipped his head in understanding and trailed outside. Nines and Josh followed and Markus heard them start talking in hushed tones as they left the building. Hank rose from his seat and approached him, and the human looked slightly haggard as he ran his hand through his disheveled hair. It took him a while to find his words.

"Look, Markus... I appreciate that you're keeping me around for this. I know that after what he did, you could've easily chosen to cut him off," he finally said in a gruff voice.

"Connor is one of us, Hank. I suspected there was something wrong with him and didn't intend to deactivate him."

Hank offered him a tired smile. "I'm glad you got the final say, then."

Markus felt a pang of guilt upon noticing the absolute exhaustion etched in the man's features and was overcome by the sudden need to apologize. "I'm sorry we had to debate on whether or not he would be allowed to live, Hank. I would've avoided even considering the latter if I could, but it was my duty to listen to what the others had to say about this."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Hank said as he walked away. "You're a leader, Markus. You know better than me how to do your job, no need to justify your actions to me as long as Connor gets to live."

Markus didn't follow him. "I'll join you in a minute, Hank."

Hank waved his hand and left the room. Markus listened to his footsteps retreat towards Connor's alcove, and then he looked around and sat down on the closest seat. He needed a moment to himself before he went to see Connor and then the two leaders. He had to prepare for the uphill battle that would be his talk with North: she was too headstrong, too angry, too hurt to be dealt with lightly. The same could be said about Simon, really; Markus knew the only reason he wasn't worried about the way Simon would react was because he was relying too much on his friend's loyal and forgiving nature. Simon wasn't as loud as North, but Markus had to take into account his fear and pain as well. He hoped they would understand that Connor was a deviant in need of help, just like anyone else in their camp. He hoped they would be able to see him for the ally that he was, rather than the deviant hunter that they feared. Markus leaned back in his chair and silently looked up at the crumbling ceiling. For now, he had to go wake up Connor again, and he had to go even if he wasn't quite ready to face the limbless android yet. He had to go even if he wasn't ready, because he would never be ready at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 25/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> Today's exams were a shitshow, but that's fine, it's always like that. This took me soooo much longer to write than I thought it would, it wasn't supposed to be this long and I was supposed to study for my exam tomorrow, but fuck it. I'm going to try to write longer chapters anyway because one of you told me you'd like it better like that. I'm tired and there might be some mistakes in this chapter, so please don't hesitate to point them out.
> 
> Something's been making me flip the fuck out : Article 13 is apparently going to be voted soon. That means I might not be able to continue writing fics and it's stressing me out. Please go sign this [petition](https://www.change.org/p/european-parliament-stop-the-censorship-machinery-save-the-internet) and if you know any other way to make our voices heard, please share it with us.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it.


	10. Fatigue

Connor hadn't moved since they'd left and Hank decided to sit down next to him again. A cold weariness seeped into his bones when he stared at the inanimate android in silence. He wanted to believe that they'd find a solution for Connor and that he'd be up and running again in no time, but the other old and experienced part of him knew it wouldn't be so easy. Who knew if Kamski would agree to helping them, or if he even could, and how long it would take if he did. Maybe it was just because he was tired, maybe it was because the leaders of Jericho hadn't unanimously agreed to letting Connor live, but Hank felt an aching sadness at the bottom of his heart. His partner deserved better than this shit after what he'd gone though. Hank didn't remember if Connor had told him when he'd first been activated, but he had an inkling that it had been only for a few months at most. Compared to the other leaders, Connor had deviated fairly early. Did that mean his will to live had been even stronger than theirs? Did it mean he hadn't really wanted to do what CyberLife expected of him, despite how often he insisted that his mission was the priority? Hank didn't really understand where the limit was between deviant and non-deviant, but he had the feeling Connor had been toeing the line for a while now. He couldn't tell what exactly had prevented him from deviating until his meeting with Markus. Connor had said that AI would choose to deactivate him if he deviated, so it might have had something to do with that threat, but there was the fact that Connor had been deactivated a few times before already while on a case and that hadn't seemed to disturb him. Maybe it was like North had said, maybe Connor had refused to acknowledge that he was killing innocents because it would have been too difficult to bear that truth; but Connor had sounded very sure of himself when he'd said deviants were only defective machines. Was it simply denial? Or had he really believed that at first?

Hank's tired brain was trying to extirpate something that made sense from all these questions and miserably failing when Markus joined him in the alcove. He looked kind of tired too, which Hank hadn't thought was possible for an android. Connor always looked perfect wherever he went at any time of the day, and Hank had yet to see an android running on low battery. Looking closely, it didn't look like the reason was physical exhaustion, but rather that Markus was worn down mentally.

"You all right?" he asked, and Markus' gaze registered surprise. Why did every android eye him like that whenever he asked them how they were feeling? It wasn't that weird a thing to do. They had feelings now, so Hank thought it was normal to ask how they were doing like he would for any other- well, he normally wouldn't even bother with humans. Hank just had that much more faith in androids than he did in his own species that he could actually afford to be polite with them.

Markus smiled at him in reassurance. "Yes, everything is fine. I'll wake Connor up now."

Hank watched the deviant leader lay the smooth white plastic of his hand on top of Connor's arm, and thought about how much he hated seeing his friend in this state for the fiftieth time at least that night. He could really use a cup of coffee right now, despite his earlier claim, because it was getting pretty early and he'd only slept for about two to three hours. He also would've liked it to wash away the acrid taste he had in his mouth every time Connor's LED flashed a panicked red, like right now. Connor had only just opened his eyes that he was already trying to recoil from Markus' touch, the fact that he'd lost his limbs visibly forgotten.

His brown eyes darted between them in alarm. "Mark- Hank?! You can't be here, you're in danger!"

Markus knew the drill by now and he held the android's face, forcing their eyes to meet. "Connor, you're limbless right now, remember?"

There was a moment of stillness when Connor took the time to realize that he couldn't harm anyone all over again, and then he quickly nodded. "Of course. Yes, I remember. I'm sorry, I don't know why I reacted this way."

Markus let go and smiled at him sympathetically. "You must have been going over some unpleasant memory files before going into stasis, and it was the first thing you remembered upon waking up. You're all right, now."

"What decision did you take?" Connor asked calmly, ignoring Markus' reassuring words like he hadn't just freaked the fuck out just then. Maybe freak-outs were different for androids. Still, it shouldn't have been possible for anyone to transition from a state of panic to complete calm that fast. Hank wondered if Connor would try to fake him out with that steady facade later, and he knew the answer even as he asked himself the question. It had probably already happened at the Chicken Feed earlier. Connor had only been visibly agitated for exactly one second, and had sounded mildly confused for the rest of their conversation. Considering what he had been hiding, Hank concluded that mildly confused meant deeply upset in Connor's case, and his little one-sentence outburst had probably been due to a momentary loss of control because he wasn't used to feelings yet. Hank found himself hoping Connor wouldn't get a grasp on the concept of emotions too soon, because if he learned to manipulate them, it would be very difficult to decipher which reactions were genuine and which were not.

"We aren't going to deactivate you. You deserve to live just like every other deviant, and we're going to try and find a solution to your problem," Markus told him.

Connor did not look happy about their decision in the slightest. "How do you intend to do that? The only way to ensure that I am not a threat would be to get rid of Amanda, and that's not something you can do. You should deactivate me, it's the safest solution."

Markus opened his mouth to answer, but Hank beat him to it, blood suddenly boiling in his veins. "Will you fucking _stop_ saying you want to die? You're pissing me off with that shit, Connor!"

Connor looked at him in surprise, and then his expression hardened. "I'm sorry, Lieutenant, but you have to understand that I am currently the biggest threat in this camp. I don't _want_ to die, but I want even less to risk killing someone by losing control."

"The biggest threat? Not like that you're not," scoffed Hank. "Have you seen yourself? You're basically a potato, there's nothing that AI can do with you."

"Hank is right, Connor," Markus gently intervened. "We're all safe. There is no need to deactivate you."

Connor's LED was spinning fast. "You said you were going to find a solution."

Markus nodded. "Yes. We'll keep you updated on our progress."

"You plan on seeing Mister Elijah Kamski, don't you?"

Hank almost smiled. Markus had decided to keep that particular piece of information from Connor as long as they didn't have a definitive answer from Kamscreep, but the kid was sharp. Hank hadn't expected witholding information to work, but he'd kept that to himself. Now Markus looked slightly embarrassed that Connor had caught his omission.

"There's nothing I can hide from you, is there," he said with an uneasy smile.

"I'm not certain that it is a good idea," Connor immediately said. "Mister Elijah Kamski is a bit of a peculiar individual."

"Yes, Hank told us about what happened when you went to see him for your investigation. I've decided to send Josh there tomorrow morning."

"Alone?" inquired Connor, his voice lightly tinged in concern.

"No, don't worry. He'll go with another android."

"Good," Connor nodded in approval. "It could be risky to go there without backup in the current context. I couldn't figure out if Mister Kamski wanted the revolution to succeed or not the last time I met him."

"Yeah, that's what I said. Not sure if he's actually pro-deviant, even if he sounds interested by deviancy in and of itself." Hank shook his head. "Honestly, that guy's probably lost it."

"At any rate, we'll have to wait for Kamski's feedback," said Markus. "In the meantime, I suggest that we reconstruct you."

"I'd rather not, it could be dangerous," immediately said Connor.

"Surely there's a way to disable motor commands to your limbs?"

"Yes, but you don't have the necessary equipment to do that from an external source."

Hank frowned. "You can't stay like this."

"I can, and I will," answered Connor with determined brown eyes. His tone didn't leave any place for argument, but Hank wasn't one to be discouraged by something as measly as tone.

"No, you're not going to stay hung up like that until we can do something about your AI! Let them put you back together, okay?"

Connor's expression was unwavering. "I refuse."

Markus cut in. "Look, Connor, it's all right if you don't want to right now, but think about it. The CyberLife Tower isn't far, I'm sure we'll find the right equipment there."

"You can't trust what's in the CyberLife Tower," he answered in a hard voice.

Hank was about to answer and stopped himself just in time. He'd been about to mention Nines. Connor noticed his shift in expression and shot him an inquisitive glance, but Hank awkwardly played it off as a cough. Not the smoothest transition, but it would have to do.

"Take the night to think," insisted Markus. "We won't mention it again until tomorrow morning. Isn't that right, Hank?"

Hank looked back and forth between Markus' resolutely amiable smile and Connor's stubborn face, and he knew there would be no point in arguing. He leaned back with a sigh. "Sure."

"I'm going to leave you both to yourselves, is there something you'd like to ask before I go?" asked Markus.

"Not at all," Connor politely said. "Thank you for keeping me in the loop."

"It's normal, Connor. It's the least we can do." Markus looked at Hank. "I suggest you try to sleep if you can, you've been up for a long time."

"Thanks, mom. Sweet dreams to you too," Hank replied sarcastically.

Markus smiled and left, and finally Hank was alone with Connor. He didn't dislike the Jericho leaders except for North, but goddamn, they did not leave a moment of respite. It was silent in the room now and he noticed that Connor was avoiding his gaze.

"You all right like that? You want me to move you?" he asked. Connor shook his head quietly, so Hank pulled a seat up to the bed and sat down.

"Wanna tell me how you're feeling?"

When Connor looked at him, his expression wasn't as smooth as it had been in front of Markus. He looked like he wanted to talk but didn't know where to begin, and it made even Hank's brittle heart waver to see him this lost. That wasn't a look he'd often seen on the usually collected android's face.

"Hey, take your time. I know this isn't easy."

Connor looked back down. Hank couldn't see his LED from this side, but he didn't need to see it to know that it was still pinwheeling a nice disturbed shade of yellow. He didn't blame the poor guy. He'd probably be freaking out too if he found himself in the same situation.

"Wanna tell me what happened?"

"I'm sorry, Hank," Connor suddenly blurted out. "I wanted to apologize to you, but I was worried you'd do something drastic if you knew."

"Okay, hold on. What for?" Connor didn't answer, so Hank took it upon himself to guess. "God, Connor. Don't tell me you ran away to kill yourself."

Connor remained silent. Hank had figured he'd fled to protect the other androids and that he'd been attacked on the way, but he hadn't realized Connor had been planning to kill himself off from the start, not after he'd just turned deviant and finally had a life to live. And Nines had observed that he'd been trying to find an empty place, somewhere no one would have found him. Heavy fatigue bore down on Hank's shoulders like a lead cloak and he didn't even have the strength to show how angry or disappointed that revelation made him.

"And you wouldn't even have told me? You would've just let me hope you were alive somewhere?"

Silence.

"Connor, that's really messed up."

Silence.

"Okay, well, you probably already knew that. You probably didn't tell anyone at all, did you?"

"I didn't have the time to alert anyone of the threat. I had to get away from the camp as fast as possible and deactivate."

Hank sighed. "Deactivate, deactivate. I really wish you'd stop with that. Even now that you know you can't hurt anyone you're still talking about deactivating, and I don't get why."

"It's a cautionary mesure. There's nothing to _get_ , Lieutenant," Connor snapped defensively, and it took Hank by surprise.

"You know what, actually I think I do get it," he said after a moment of silence. "You're trying to avoid dealing with something. It could be Amanda, it could be what you did in Jericho- which by the way, is not your fault- or it could even be just feeling. Hell, I don't like feelings and I've had them my whole life, so I can't imagine how difficult it is to understand for you. But you can't just deactivate because you feel like it, okay? There are people who can help you get through it."

Connor's voice was clipped. "Considering your past actions, Hank, you're not very well placed to tell me how to cope with emotional distress." 

Hank stared at him, flabbergasted by the low blow. When he regained his composure, he said in a low voice: "Very nasty, Connor."

Connor didn't answer and looked away. His words had hit a home run in Hank's feelings and he couldn't deny it was painful, but he knew for a fact Connor wasn't one to judge him for being a suicidal drunkard. He also knew Connor was hurt and didn't know how to deal with all his emotional shit, considering he was still a machine less than two days ago. So he let it slide.

"Look, Connor, you can play dirty with me if you want. I'm not gonna leave."

Connor finally spoke after a long moment of silence. "I didn't want you to kill yourself. That's why I didn't tell you about my intentions. I've done research about suicidal tendencies, Hank. I knew losing a friend could be the final push."

Hank rubbed his face and resisted the urge to get mad, because he knew that Connor was right. Maybe he would have taken out the gun and the bottle if he'd known. There was no denying that. "Have you considered that maybe, just maybe, I could've helped? Or anyone else, for that matter. Markus is a good guy, he would've understood."

"I told you, there was no time. Amanda could have overridden my commands at any moment, and I couldn't keep escaping her forever. It was too dangerous to stay and ask for help. And tell me, Hank, what could you have done if I'd asked for your help? You're only human, I would've easily killed you if she forced me to."

Hank didn't say anything. He hated that Connor was so damn rational, because that meant he was always fucking right. 

"I'm sorry, all right? I was convinced that was the best course of action," insisted Connor when he didn't get an answer. 

Hank looked up at him tiredly. "Yeah, Connor. I'm sure it was."

"Are you upset with me?" the android asked in a tight voice.

Hank shrugged. "A little bit, but I think I understand that you just did what you had to. Just..." He reached for Connor's arm and gripped it. "Promise me you won't pull that kind of stunt again. At least tell me when shit hits the fan."

"I will."

"And do you promise?"

Connor hesitated, but he did answer: "I promise."

"Good," nodded Hank. His eyes stung from lack of sleep and he really wanted to lie down, but he had another question. "Look, something clearly happened to you that you hadn't planned when you decided to run away. Are you gonna talk about it at one moment?"

Connor's jaw clenched slightly and Hank was sure he saw a slight red glow come from the other side of his forehead, even for a brief moment. "No."

"So you're going to keep the secret. Look, I know I'm not the greatest example of communicating with others, but I can tell you it's better to talk about bad things than keeping it to yourself. Especially when what happened ended up in you getting destroyed."

"Hank, I don't want to say. I don't know why, but I don't want to." 

Hank stared at him. He didn't like the way Connor's eyes glazed over or the way the corner of his lips curled downards when he spoke. He couldn't tell what that expression meant, but he was damn certain that it didn't belong on his friend's face.

"Okay, well. That's probably because you're not ready to yet. It's fine. Just... Talk to me when you can, all right?"

"Yes." The word sounded both unconvinced and unconvincing.

They both fell silent again for a while, and now Connor looked plainly downtrodden. He wasn't even trying to hide it anymore. Hank gave his shoulder a few reassuring pats. "Hey, it's gonna be okay. Markus and co will find a way to kick that bitch out of your systems, and then you'll be back on your feet running around and licking shit in no time."

Connor looked at him, and Hank noticed a very light quirk to his lips. "I'd rather not."

Hank grinned back. "You know what I mean. Don't you worry, all right? I'm there for you, and so are they. Besides, you gotta come by my house at one point. I think Sumo's looking for you, you made a good impression on him."

"I'd like that," said Connor with an earnest nod.

"What else would you like to do once you can get out of here?"

Connor took a moment to think, and Hank wondered if he'd ever even taken the time to envision living a normal life as a deviant. Then Connor smiled at him. "I'd like to drive with you, and listen to some death metal."

"Oh yeah?" chuckled Hank. "You starting to miss my 'energetic' taste in music already? You've talked about it two times now."

"Well, it's been some time since I last got the chance to listen to it."

Hank leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms on his chest, making himself comfortable. "What else do you want to do?"

"I'd like to calibrate with my coin. And help Markus found androids' rights. I'd like to come back to the DPD, and put salt in Detective Reed's coffee."

"Oh, good one," Hank chuckled appreciatively. "Gotta remember to do it."

"That's all I can think of."

Hank raised an eyebrow. "That's all?"

"Yes," answered Connor a bit bashfully.

"Well, that's fine. We can find more later." Hank yawned, and resumed talking. "I think it's already a good start."

Connor tilted his head, and his voice was insistent when he spoke again. "Lieutenant, maybe you should sleep. My scans have detected a drop in your energy levels."

"Oh, so now you've got a babysitter protocol _and_ a nanny protocol? How long have you been an AX400?"

Connor shot him a Look. "Never, really. I'd just like you to be alert when you go back to work tomorrow."

"Oh, right. I forgot." Hank shrugged. "I'll be late like always, it's not like Fowler's gonna have an aneurysm over a few hours."

Connor didn't comment on that, and Hank hadn't expected him to. The only reason Connor was sort of reproachful for his lateness before was because without Hank, he couldn't accomplish his missions. Now that they weren't partners anymore, Connor had no reason to care if Hank was late to work.

"At any rate, do you think you'll come back here tomorrow afternoon?" asked Connor.

"Well yeah, obviously. I'll get out of work early like I did today."

"Wouldn't you like to function at optimal levels of energy when you come here, so you can follow the leaders' conversations after a long day of work?"

Sneaky little shit.

"Okay, okay, you're right," he conceded before leaning against the table. "I'm just gonna sleep here then. You probably don't even have any real beds."

"I believe I saw some child-sized ones earlier."

"Real useful, Connor," snorted Hank. "How about you stop saying shit and go back to sleep, yeah?"

"Thanks, mom. Sweet dreams to you too." 

Hank's eyes snapped open in disbelief. The android was looking at him with a deadpan expression and Hank supposed Connor could probably get banned from casinos for that masterful poker face. He squinted at him and asked : "Did you really just...?"

"Sorry Lieutenant. It was too easy to pass up," Connor answered innocently.

Hank nodded slowly and then laid his head back on his crossed arms. He was too tired to deal with Connor's sass right now. "...Right. I'm gonna sleep now. Don't wake me up, you got it?"

"Got it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 26/04/2019 -
> 
> Hi pumpkin.  
> Connor is pigheaded about reconstruction, but not without good reason. However, he's basically ignoring his own feelings to prioritize everyone else's safety and that's not good. At least he was able to apologize to Hank about his suicide attempt, he's been waiting to do that since he woke up. So he's a bit snarky because he's scared, sue him. Also sass.  
> Hank is Best Dad. It's not the first nor the last Dad Moment he's gonna get. Yes, Hank, talk to your son about his feelings! Talk to your son about all the wonderful things he's going to be able to do once he's free! You're doing a great job at cheering him up!  
> Markus doesn't stick around too long because 1) limbless android and 2) he's got a fight to get into with North
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	11. Distrust

"I understand that you're angry, but I'm sure Markus knows what he's doing," said Simon.

North refused to acknowledge his reasoning and glared at the entrance. "He's sure taking his sweet time."

They'd been waiting for a few minutes already and she was pissed. More pissed than she'd already been before. In fact, she might have been reaching critical levels. They had better things to do than to just stand around like this while life went on in the android camp, notably helping the wounded, cleaning up the place, going on more salvaging missions, and so on and so forth. Markus was probably busy being a fucking messiah and washing Connor of all his sins or whatever, but if he thought she'd be doing the same, then he was delusional beyond repair.

Simon tried again. "Look, I'm scared too. I don't like Connor either and I'm not sure what Markus sees in him, but if he wants to keep him around then it must be for a good reason."

"You can tell yourself that." Simon fell silent and North glanced at him after a few seconds, and she felt just a little bit bad when she saw his drooping shoulders and disheartened expression. "Look, Simon, I know you trust Markus. I trusted him during the whole revolution and I don't regret it for the most part, but this is different. You understand that, don't you?"

He looked lost when he lifted his blue gaze to her face, and he didn't say anything. North had noticed he often looked like that ever since he'd been brought back by the human. Both Simon and 900 - ugh, Nines - had been caught up on how the revolution had unfolded by tapping into the news feed, and they'd had very different reactions to it. Nines hadn't said much, but Simon had been very bothered by what had happened in his absence, and especially upset by the camps in which androids had been gathered and destroyed. Sometimes North wondered if he even felt guilty of not having been able to help, which was ridiculous considering he'd been trapped and deactivated in an evidence room, but wasn't that implausible of a reaction for Simon. That wasn't all there was to it. Simon had always been less headstrong than her and Josh in their arguments, but now North found him quiet and there was something fragile in the way he behaved that hadn't been there before. Markus' footsteps interrupted her musings and she looked up.

"Finally," she grumbled. 

He stopped in front of them and his mismatched eyes alternated between them when he spoke. "I wanted a quick talk with the both of you, now that we're alone. I'd like to know why you're not okay with the decision we took."

"But I did agree," said Simon in a perplexed voice.

Markus dipped his head. "You did, but I know you're reluctant about it."

Simon dropped his gaze to the ground and North decided to take the lead. "I think it's obvious why I don't agree."

Markus' eyes hardened. "North, you were willing to let Connor die without proving he was guilty. You were ready to deactivate an innocent android."

North scoffed. "Innocent? You can't be serious! We all know what he did and what he's capable of, he's anything but innocent!"

"You'd rather we deactivate him for good?"

"Yes! He's dangerous, that's why I've been asking for that since the beginning! I know you and Josh consider him an ally and I won't deny that it's thanks to him that we are free in the end, but that doesn't change his nature. I don't believe in Kamski and the miraculous solution of getting the AI out of Connor's systems."

"He just wants to live," insisted Markus. "Like us."

"I know that!" exclaimed North, exasperated. "But do you really think he deserves to, after everything he did?"

"Of course! He clearly regrets his actions as a machine!"

"It's bullshit, Markus!" she yelled at him.

Simon stepped forward and put his hand on her arm, urging her to calm down. "North, don't be so loud. The others will hear you."

She jerked away from him and crossed her arms on her chest, glaring at Markus. "Do you remember the cops that opened fire on us when we broke into those stores?"

Markus nodded silently.

"They slaughtered so many, and for what? For being androids with a conscience and a will to live," North continued. She could remember it all. The blue blood spilling on the cold, snow-covered streets. Their inanimate faces, features frozen over with the fear of their imminent death. The bone-crushing sadness that had brought her down on her knees when she'd realized what had happened, the hopeless tears that had streamed down her face when she knew that they'd suffered an irretrievable loss of life, that these androids would never walk again. They'd only wanted to be free, and the humans had killed them for it. Even know, she still felt the burning pain of not having been able to save them.

"He's no different. He worked with them to hunt us all down and it was his choice, the human told us so himself. Connor was a deviant and he still chose to remain on those murderers' side."

Markus' voice was calm and reasonable. "We don't know that for certain. Things must be more complicated than we think."

She smiled bitterly. "Sure, you can believe that now. Then one day you'll be looking down the barrel of Connor's gun for the last time, wondering why you didn't listen to me."

"You're afraid, and I can understand that, but you're much too rash in your decisions. He didn't try to kill me by choice, he was forced into it. How do you think that makes him feel, after he helped us win the revolution?"

"I don't care. I'm not going to forgive him for what he did, machine or not. He helped the humans kill our people, and that's all there is to it."

Markus gazed at her silently for a moment. He looked like he didn't know what to say, and it took him a while to speak again. "I understand that you would feel this way, but you shouldn't condemn him without listening to what he has to say. Don't let fear and anger take over your reasoning, North."

She shook her head. "Fear and anger are the only weapons I have. After what was done to us, I'm not ready to lay them down."

She needed to feel both emotions, they were what had helped her live on, what still helped her push forward. Without her fear, she would have remained a disgusting doll for humans to use on their every single whim. Without her anger, she would have broken upon waking up. She needed both to continue living and couldn't foresee a future where she would be able to let them go without losing herself for good.

Markus nodded compassionately. "I know, but you don't have to rely on those solely. You're not fighting alone, you have me, Simon and Josh to talk to."

She gestured to the PL600. "The only one who listens to me is Simon, because he's the only one who's willing to see just how dangerous Connor is. And even he trusts you enough to turn a blind eye to the danger you're putting yourself and all of us in! I'm sorry, but at the end of the day, I can only trust myself. If it were only up to me, Connor would be gone already. The only one who would miss him would be that human."

Markus looked shocked. "You aren't being serious."

"Deadly. My opinion on the matter won't change." North was aware how harsh she sounded, but a radical solution was sometimes the best solution. If any android other than Connor had attempted to murder Markus, maybe she would have tried to understand before kicking them out of the camp for good. But Connor had killed so many of them already, and it was his nature to do so. There was no understanding to be had, such actions were part of his programming, and exiling him would still be too risky; deactivation would be swift and efficient. Even if it hadn't been Connor's intention, the facts were there: he was a threat to them, and an uncontrollable one if they let him roam free. If being the bad guy was the only way to ensure Markus wouldn't be in danger, then she'd be exactly that.

"You wouldn't give him a chance?" he asked.

"Giving him a chance to live is giving him a chance to kill _you_." North's voice was cutting. It wasn't just the danger Markus was putting himself in; there was also the fact that Connor had murdered innocent androids just for a stupid mission. Murdering his own people hadn't been enough to deter him from following his orders. "Besides, I don't see how it's fair that he should be allowed to experience a life of freedom when he stole that away from so many others."

"North, do you realize what you're saying? Deactivating Connor wouldn't bring them back."

"They deserved to live. He doesn't. It's not fair," she insisted coldly. 

"No, it's not, but you can't add another one of our people to our losses just for some twisted idea of justice! He was ready to die for our cause, North!"

"So what? Just because he's a self-sacrificing idiot like you doesn't automatically make him a good person! So what if he feels guilt, so what if he wants to make up for it? That just means he knows how horrible his actions were!"

"Actions that you should remember he had no control over," said Markus in a tense voice. "Give him a chance, North. He deserves to live too."

North wanted to laugh at how naive he was being. "Do you really think I'm the only one in this whole camp who can't let go of what he's done? You're too quick to forgive, Markus. Trust _me_ when I say that I'm not the only one who won't be as lenient as you are."

His eyes widened. "You're not thinking of telling them about-"

"No," she snapped annoyedly. "What he tried to do because of the AI stays between us, but rumours have already started flying. He was seen pulling the gun out the second time, Markus. People were bound to talk, and it's catching on like wildfire because of his reputation."

There was a moment of silence and Markus quietly said: "... I didn't realize."

"Stop thinking that convincing me is going to solve the problem, because it won't. He helped us gain our freedom, but that doesn't change what he did prior to deviating, or the fact that he tried to kill you twice afterwards."

"Then there's no convincing you that the decision we took was the right one?"

"No." 

Her final word of refusal broke the tension in Markus' shoulders and they sagged slightly, enough that she could suddenly catch a glimpse of defeat in his posture. It was clear he'd given up on getting her approval in that instant, and she realized then just how troubled he was by her lack of cooperation. Even if she would never back down from her position, she could understand how tired it made him to be their leader when they never agreed. North stepped closer to him and reached out, settling her hand on his shoulder. The sudden contact between them surprised him and he looked at her with a silent question in his eyes.

Her voice was softer when she spoke again. "You've done a lot for us. You've done a lot for me and I'm grateful for that, and that's why I won't let you put your life on the line for that deviant hunter. Don't ask me to trust him, Markus, I never will."

He nodded minutely and she felt him lean into her touch for just a moment. She would have asked him if he was all right, but he straightened a second later and pulled away from her. "I understand. I was mistaken and thought that the fear of me being shot pushed you to choose something as extreme as deactivation, but I see the roots for your decision run deeper than that. Am I right to say that you resent him for what he is, and that you think he is unredeemable?"

North let go of him and nodded. "Yes. To me, he's a murderer and nothing else."

"I understand." Markus turned to Simon, who had remained quiet the whole time. "What about you, Simon? I noticed you were afraid earlier, are you all right?"

Simon shifted uneasily and pulled on his sleeves. "Yes."

Markus nodded at him encouragingly. "You went along with our decision, but what do you really think?"

Simon hesitated. "...I'm not sure. I don't want to deactivate him, but I don't want him to be there with us either." His lips quirked up nervously and glanced at North for support. "I'm not sure if that makes sense."

Markus nodded. "You're doing fine, continue."

"I won't deny that I dislike being close to him. I think he's dangerous. Neutralizing androids is too easy for him, and he's smart and manipulative." Simon frowned and stared down at his hands. "Yet at the same time, he is a deviant now, isn't he? Which means he should be allowed to live too. I'm... conflicted."

"It's understandable, after what happened to you," Markus said kindly. "Do you think we made the right choice by refusing to deactivate him?"

Simon looked back up at him. "Yes, but I'm not sure about considering him one of our own, and I'm not sure we should try to reconstruct him as long as he still has the AI with him."

Markus looked slightly bothered. "About that... Connor refuses to be reconstructed for now. He says it's too dangerous."

"Told you," mumbled North. "He's smarter than all of you combined, I'll give him that."

Markus ignored her. "We'll talk about it again in the morning, but for now he's with Hank, and I want to give them some space."

"All right," said Simon.

"You said you weren't sure about considering him as one of us?" continued Markus.

Simon's blue eyes darted uneasily to the side, then back to the RK200. "I'm... concerned. If it's what you think is best, then I won't disagree, but please be careful. Don't let your guard down around him."

"I won't, Simon, don't worry."

North noticed that Markus had fully regained his composure of strong leader now that he was talking with Simon, and she attributed it to the fact that the PL600 was so much calmer than her. His complacent behaviour and mellow voice were probably a relief to Markus after the bout with her more prickly attitude.

"Thank you for taking the time to explain what you were thinking. I wish we could all be of the same opinion, but as experience has shown us before, that was unlikely to begin with," said Markus with a light smile.

"Are we done here, then?" asked North.

"Yes. I'm only asking of you to cooperate with our future actions concerning Connor, even if you don't want to trust him."

North looked at Simon, who was already nodding in agreement, and then frowned at Markus. "It's already difficult with Connor himself, but I'm going to have a real hard time cooperating if that human sticks around. Why do you insist on making him attend every one of our conversations?"

"He's the only one who knows Connor," simply answered Markus. "His opinion on the matter is important too."

"He's an ass," she stated.

Simon let out a small laugh next to her, and when they both looked at him, his eyes widened a bit and he hid his mouth behind his hand.

"What?" asked North.

He hesitated and then removed his hand, a smile still dancing on his lips. "He's not the most polite person we know, but I think he's a suitable rival for you, North."

"What are you talking about?" she snapped, and then she noticed Markus was chuckling too. Great, they were both making fun at her and it made her want to punch a wall. Again. She tried to push down her anger which was menacing to boil over at any moment and crossed her arms. "It's not supposed to be amusing, guys. He really gets on my nerves."

"Just remember, this is still a peaceful movement," said Markus with a grin that now made her want to punch his face rather than a wall.

North rolled her eyes and turned around. "I'm going to leave before I do something I regret."

She left the two others and decided to go talk to the head of the salvaging mission group that had found the floor of RK800s when she distantly heard Simon speak again as she walked along the building.

"Wait, Markus." He sounded different, almost insecure, and it made her steps falter. All traces of laughter had vanished from his voice.

"What is it?"

"I... I need to tell you something."

North hesitated. This sounded private, but there was a sort of desperate quality to the PL600's voice that instinctively made her want to go back and ask him what was wrong.

"Yes?"

A long pause, during which North silently traced back her steps. 

Markus spoke again. "What's wrong, Simon? You look scared."

"... I just... I need to know that you won't..." He trailed off, audibly struggling to find the words for his trouble. "I want to stay here. With you."

Markus sounded puzzled. "Of course."

"...Promise me you won't leave me behind again." 

North felt her pump tremble at the absolute misery in Simon's words. Markus must have felt the same thing, because his voice was solemnly gentle when he spoke again.

"I promise I won't leave you again, Simon. I'm sorry it ever happened."

"I... I was so scared, Markus. When I woke up and I couldn't see anything, and I couldn't move my legs, and I was so damaged and there were so many error messages everywhere-"

"Simon..."

"I heard your voice, and I was so sure we would be going back, I was so sure you'd come back for me." He sounded pained, like speaking those words was the worst thing he'd ever had to do. "I thought I was going back home, that I was saved. And then you left me again."

North had covered her mouth with her hand and her chest was aching. She heard Markus move and Simon stumble, and when Markus spoke his voice was muffled.

"I'm sorry, Simon. It won't happen again."

Simon's voice was small and thin in the night air. "I know it wasn't you, but it hurt so much, and I was so, so scared-"

"I know. You're all right now. You're safe." There was a long moment of silence, then Markus stepped back and asked : "Do you want to come to the infirmary with me?"

"...There's something else."

"Yes?"

"What does Connor mean to you? What is his place here?"

"I consider him a fellow leader. He is an important ally, and someone we should consider our equal."

"Even after what he did?"

"Yes." There was no hesitation in Markus' voice, but North was still much too disturbed by how upset Simon had sounded to feel angry about the way Markus perceived the deviant hunter as an equal to all of them.

"...I see," answered Simon in a quiet voice. "You can go ahead, I'll join you later."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Another moment of silence, the sound of fabric against fabric. "Don't worry, Simon. You have your place here and we won't leave you by yourself again."

"Thank you, Markus."

The sound of the RK200's gradually retreating footsteps slowly vanished and North stayed where she was. She should leave, really. Simon obviously needed some time to himself, even if he'd followed them everywhere until now. Despite that, part of North went against that more reasonable choice and she couldn't bring herself to leave this place. That part completely took over when she heard the sound of something hitting the ground. Her legs were already moving by the time she realized it and she hurriedly rounded the corner, her gaze landing on the kneeling PL600.

"Simon?" she asked softly, and saw him jolt in surprise. He turned around to face her and she felt sorrow grip her pump when the dim moonlight glinted in his wet eyes. He wasn't crying, but he was close.

"Are you all right?" she all but whispered, slowly kneeling at his side.

Simon looked away, his voice accusatory. "You heard everything, didn't you?" 

She pressed her lips together remorsefully, and ended up telling the truth. "Yes."

"You must think I'm weak."

Her eyes widened, shocked that he would think her so insensitive. Okay, so she wasn't the most delicate and sensible flower around, but still. She _was_ capable of empathy. "Of course not, why would you think that? You've been through something really rough, Simon. It's normal to be upset about it."

He wiped his face with his sleeve and shook his head resolutely. "Worse things have happened to other people, and they don't break down like this."

"You don't know that," North gently chided. "They're just good at hiding it."

He let his hands drop in his lap and finally looked at her again. "North, I'm scared of being useless," he admitted. "I didn't help you. I betrayed you. Jericho... Jericho was compromised because of me. They died because of me."

North grabbed his shoulder. "No, Simon, that's not true. We told you already, none of it was your fault, you were tortured into giving up that information. I would have done the same in your place."

"I was stupid," Simon mumbled. "I should've known it was a trap. I should've known it was him."

"Stop beating yourself up. It's like you said, the important thing is that we're alive, right?"

His blue eyes searched hers, and after a moment of silence he said: "I didn't think Connor of all people would take my place."

"What are you talking about? He didn't take your place, he came in at the last second."

"He helped you win the revolution while I was rotting away in that evidence locker. It's safe to say he accomplished much more than I ever will."

North frowned at him. "Listen here, Simon, you're the reason Jericho ever existed in the first place. Remember? You were the one in charge before Markus found us. Without you, maybe the revolution never would've happened."

"Someone else would've been in my position."

"Simon..." She faltered, not knowing how to continue. She felt like she was talking to a wall. A very sad wall. None of what she was saying was getting through to him.

"I just wish I'd been more careful. I wish I hadn't gotten shot, I wish I'd found a better hiding spot." He hid his face behind his hands, and his voice grew muffled. "I wish I'd never been left behind in the first place."

"Simon, I'm sorry." She really meant it, but the apology fell flat. There was only so much she could say for everything she regretted doing. "I promise, I won't let it happen again."

Simon's hands withdrew and he eyed her unhappily. "I know you mean well, North, but you were the one to suggest to shoot me so they wouldn't know anything. You were right, maybe that way they wouldn't have found Jericho, but it still hurts to think about. I can't say I trust you completely."

That hurt. It hurt a _lot_ , because he was absolutely right and entitled to think that way, and North knew she deserved it. "...I get it, Simon. I understand, but I'll stay by your side no matter what. You'll see I'm not lying."

Simon looked back towards the tents, beyond the glowing blue LEDs and biocomponents of the wandering androids. "Do whatever you like, North."

She gazed at him, studying the melancholic curl of his lips, the dejected blue eyes, the worried hunch of his shoulders. North felt a burst of sympathy for him and squeezed his shoulder. "You say you're scared, but you're more courageous than me. You're willing to give Connor a second chance despite what he's done to you."

Simon's voice was level. "He helped us gain our freedom, even if he... Well, it's thanks to him that I'm back here."

North frowned at him. "It's because of him you were taken from us in the first place."

"I know," he simply answered.

She didn't insist. He didn't ask her to leave.  
They stayed crouched on the ground together until Simon felt better and left to join Markus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 27/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> So I just got out of the movie theaters and Endgame was aMAZING. My only teeny tiny complaint is that I wish my baby had more screen time, but we got a nice fluffy moment and a nice angsty moment to compensate.
> 
> Okay so anyway this chapter, yeah... Simon...  
> Did I make you feel bad? Because I definitely made North feel bad. And myself.  
> This chapter probably also annoyed you because of her hater streak, but I mean, she's kinda traumatized too and her coping mechanism is being pissy. They're all kinda traumatized. Everyone is fucked up in this game anyway, that's part of why we like it so much.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	12. Ingenious

They were fortunate that Elijah Kamski lived on the far edge of Detroit, away from the mass of liberated androids, and that he had as such decided that he did not need to depart to Canada or anywhere else his billion-dollar worth could have carried him. Josh and Nines reached the wide mansion at 8AM on the dot, and Nines stayed slightly in retreat as the leader made their presence known at the door. They did not have to wait past ten seconds for it to open and reveal an RT600 wearing an affable smile.

"Good morning," she said with polite cheer.

"Good morning," answered Josh. "We're here to see Mister Kamski on the behalf of the leaders of Jericho."

"Of course," nodded the RT600. "Please, come in."

They followed her inside a wide entranceway, and Nines immediately recalled Hank's words : _egomaniac glory_ flawlessly described Mister Kamski's interior, and though Nines was no home designer model, he couldn't help but think that the huge portrait hanging on the wall was in poor taste. Josh seemed to think the same.

"Our creator seems to be quite proud of his achievements," he said in a thoughtful voice, but Nines caught the underlying criticism in his words.

"I will inform Elijah of your presence," the RT600 pleasantly said without reacting to Josh's words, and then turned on her bare heels and disappeared through the doorway on Nines's side.

"I don't think she has deviated," observed Josh.

Nines didn't say anything. He was a bit tense to be here and wondering what Mister Kamski would find in his code if he accepted to go through it. Of course, he was also worried that this wouldn't turn out to be a viable solution for Connor's problem, but he was trying not to think too much about the RK800 in his current state. The images he'd obtained through the memory probe with the Traci would promptly pop up without his control whenever he did, and he had to push them back down lest his stress levels creep up. 

"Are you alright, Nines?" Josh was looking at him with a concerned expression, and Nines simply nodded. Was it that obvious that he was feeling uneasy? He had a hard time adjusting between being too expressive and not expressive enough, though he'd quickly understood from the other's reactions that he was doing something wrong. They seemed uneasy when he emoted too a higher degree, so he'd tried to tone it down a little ; but sometimes it simply escaped his grasp like it had just now.

His gaze roamed around the room without meaning to and he automatically sought out clues that would give him insight on the character they were about to met. Unfortunately, the place was eerily clean and there was only one element that his program found worthy of analyzing : a frame hanging on the closest wall depicting both Elijah Kamski and Amanda Stern, names that his facial recognition program eagerly provided. It could have been a coincidence for Connor's AI to be named Amanda, but Nines doubted that it was.

His silent musings were interrupted by the return of the RT600. "Elijah will see you now."

Both he and Josh followed her in the adjacent room and they were greeted with the sight of a large pool devoid of any swimmers which was filled with a red liquid that sparked Nines's curiosity, but he wasn't about to kneel down and take a sample right now. He wondered why the human would have chosen to swim in such an oddly-colored substance. This location was rather secluded and he couldn't have had many visitors since he'd stepped down as CyberLife's CEO years ago, so it must have been a self-indulgent choice. Did he perhaps want to feel like he was different from other humans? Did it empower him to bathe in blood-colored water? _Egomaniac glory_ , repeated Hank's voice.

"To what do I owe the pleasure?" rang out a confident voice on the right, and Nines saw a lean man clad in elegant shades of dark blue and black enter the room through yet another doorway. Just like the RT600 earlier, his feet were bare and made no sound against the sleek dark floor. He had an fanciful air about him as he approached them and his welcoming smile was completely manufactured, as far as Nines could tell. There was nothing warm about this human and he immediately understood why Hank had warned them not to trust him. 

"Mister Kamski," Josh dipped his head in greeting.

"Please, call me Elijah." The man stopped in front of them, his posture simultaneously relaxed and controlled, and his cold eyes rested upon Nines's face curiously.

"My name is Josh, and this is Nines. We've come here because we need your help."

The man's smile was unmoving, as if sculpted in plastic. Nines somehow felt relieved when the Elijah's gaze moved away from his face to rest on Josh's. "Intriguing. I'm listening."

"I will go straight to the point. We want to know if there is a way to remove the AI you designed from Connor's systems, and if Nines has similar programming to his."

"... Connor," Elijah said in a mulling tone which Nines did not think he liked. "How is he faring with deviancy?"

If Josh was annoyed by the redirection, he did not let it show. "Mister Kamski, we are only willing to tell you so much. We need to be sure of your cooperation before you can be privvy to sensitive information regarding the members of the revolution."

"Ah, the revolution." Elijah lifted his arms with a widened smile, as if suddenly inspired by the word. "Very impressive, if I may, and you have a great flair for dramatics. Your singing nearly brought me to tears. Who knew androids could makes humans so emotional? And what a marvelous turn of events it was to witness the glorious march of thousands of liberated androids, led by none other than the deviant hunter himself!"

He managed to sound both sincere and sarcastic at the same time. His expression was unreadable, and Nines could not pick up any tells when the man spoke. It didn't surprise him that Connor hadn't been able to say if Elijah was rooting for the deviants or not. His tendency to avoid answering Josh's direct questions was unnerving.

"Are you willing to cooperate with us and tell us what you know?" Josh calmly insisted. 

"Of course. Things have been a bit monotone here since I last had visitors." Elijah turned to Nines, his gaze far too intense to his liking. "I do enjoy meeting CyberLife's latest additions."

"I hope you don't intend to try and get anyone shot this time," Nines answered challengingly.

Elijah's brow rose slightly in mock surprise. "He speaks!"

Nines resisted the urge to glare at him. "It shouldn't come as a surprise."

"I was starting to wonder if they'd forgotten to give you a voice, amongst other things," the man said with unsettling poise. He had the same open and laid-back stance since the beginning of their talk, but there was an undertone of dominance in his voice that made Nines both annoyed and uncomfortable.

"What do you mean?"

Elijah took a step forward and reached a hand up to Nines's face, fingers hovering along his jaw but not quite touching him. "You have his appearance." The fingers moved up the side of his face and the man's expression was almost tender. "Anyone would think you are just like him. That's far from the truth, isn't it? You aren't complete. The RK900 was never finished."

The man's words sent an uncomfortable current through his circuits and Nines jerked away from the offending hand, allowing his eyes to narrow slightly. "I am operational, Mister Kamski, and that is largely sufficient." 

"Yes, of course," Elijah chuckled as he retrieved his hand.

"How did you know?" asked Josh, who now sounded much more cautious.

"I am your creator. I know many things, and definitely more than you give me credit for," the man answered evasively.

"You weren't a part of my creation. You stepped down from your position as CyberLife's CEO before the project of my existence even existed," said Nines.

Elijah's eyes crinkled in a way that was anything but trustful. "That's what you'd be made to believe."

Nines suddenly felt the need to leave this place. Elijah Kamski seemed to know far too much about everything and it felt like they were being played. Josh must have had the same qualms, judging from the cracks in his calm facade. It was likely that the man was already informed of many things about them that could be considered sensitive. There was a silence that was long enough to be uneasy, but too short for either androids to speak before Elijah did.

"Worry not, you can consider me an observant third party to this development," he assured. "I won't share any dangerous information that could impede either side's advancement, be it either android or human."

"You said you'd help us, but you haven't asked for a price," stated Josh, gearing the conversation back on its original rails.

"I have not."

"Then you are willing to help us without asking for anything in exchange?"

"I won't deny that I am morbidly curious about whatever enhancements CyberLife has brought to the RK800 model, and so investigating Nines's code is payment enough for me," assured the man. "However your request to neutralize the AI in Connor's systems is more delicate, and I cannot promise any results as of right now. I will have to do some research on the subject as it was never originally planned that we would need to do such a thing."

"That's understandable, but do you think it is possible?"

For the first time since the beginning of their conversation, Elijah's smile was slightly disminished and Nines was afraid to hear the answer. 

"Are you seriously considering the possibility that I might fail?"

Nines felt both relief and disbelief at Elijah's words when he noted that the only thing which had, so far, made the genius lose that sleek facade of his was doubting his abilities. Nines had guessed that Elijah had some sort of superiority complex, but he hadn't thought the man was so imbued of his own person that he'd take another's caution as a personal insult. Egomaniac glory indeed.

"I am considering all possibilities, Mister Kamski, no matter how slim their chances are," Josh answered in impressive cool. "We can't afford to overlook anything, for Connor's sake."

Elijah's fake smile returned in a smooth quirk of the lips, like it were as easy as flicking a switch back on. "Precautions, boring precautions... They are completely useless to me. If it is out of worry for Connor, however, then I can accept that you feel the need to take them."

Nines wondered if what he was feeling towards Elijah in this moment was what Hank felt towards him when he called him a smug prick. Nines tried to reason with himself : maybe this smugness he perceived was justified, maybe the genius really was just that good and maybe precautions truly were unecessary. Nines even hoped it to be the case, because that would mean Connor would be free of the AI no matter what. However Nines found that all the reasoning in the world could not prevent him from thinking that if there was anything he felt like naming this man in his files, it was exactly that. Elijah Kamski was one smug fucking prick. 

"Then if it's all right with you, I'd like you to start an in-depth scan of Nines's code," said Josh. "We can discuss about Connor's predicament at the same time."

Elijah gestured towards the door with an elegant flourish of his hand. "It will be my pleasure. Please, follow me."

They walked through a few other rooms that all had the same pretentiously grandiose feel as the entranceway and the pool room. It was too big, too much, yet had a simplistic organization with minimalistic design. Nines grew increasingly uneasy as they encountered the non-deviant RT600 models Hank had told them about. So far they'd seen at least three, maybe four if the one that had greeted them at the start wasn't part of those they were crossing paths with right now. The blonde androids sat silently on the silk-draped couches and high-end furniture, uneeded, and only raised their heads to follow their progression through the room with identical smiles.

"Mister Kamski," finally said Josh. "I can't help but notice a contradiction in your actions. You're about to help the leaders of the android uprise, yet you keep non-deviant androids in your home."

Elijah didn't bother to turn around when he answered. "It's precisely because they are non-deviant that I keep them here."

"And if they were to deviate?"

"Then they could leave if they wished to. I am not prohibiting them from deviating, one already has," he informed them. "The Chloe I asked Connor to shoot did so soon after their encounter."

"I'm surprised you are still alive," Nines cut in sharply.

Elijah chuckled and shot him a merry glance. "It would be a poetic end to be killed at the hands of my own creation, however cliché."

"What happened, then?"

"She was lost and afraid. I was interested and could offer her shelter. We made a deal," he simply answered.

"What would you do if I helped all of them deviate like Connor did with the androids in the CyberLife Tower?"

"You're welcome to try," said Elijah with the same unnerving smile in his voice.

"You would be alone," pressed Nines, frustrated by the man's lack of response. It was like there was no way to get under his skin.

"Please, don't think I actually rely on them to live," Elijah said derisively. "It wouldn't change a thing. Machines are mere commodities."

Josh suddenly spoke in a voice heavy with warning. "Mister Kamski, please keep in mind who you are dealing with."

"Oh, yes, my apologies," Elijah said lightly with a languid wave of the hand. "That was indelicate of me."

They were about to take a flight of stairs when a female voice came from the end of the hall. "Elijah, why didn't you tell me our visitors were from Hart Plaza?" 

An RT600 appeared next to the staircase and it was obvious that this was one they hadn't seen before, less by the clothes she wore which were different from the blue dress they'd seen on the others, than by her face which was much too expressive to be one of the dolls sitting in Kamski's living room.

"Ah, here she is, the woman of the hour. Josh, Nines, this is Chloe. Chloe, meet Josh and Nines," Elijah introduced with an appropriate amount of gesturing on both sides.

Chloe's expression was caught halfway between admiration and puzzlement. She spoke to Josh first. "Thank you for what you've done for us all. I would talk more about the revolution, but..." She looked at Nines and only hesitated for one second. "...You aren't Connor."

"No. My name is Nines, I was meant to be his upgrade," he told her helpfully. "I hope my appearance does not make you uncomfortable."

"Not to worry, I think I'm coming to terms with what happened," she assured him, though he noticed the fingers of her right hand nervously tugging at the hem of her pale blue blouse. "I'm just thankful that he didn't pull the trigger. Could you tell him that for me?"

"Of course."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, darling, but I believe these gentlemen have urgent business," Kamski cut in.

"Yes, Elijah. I apologize for the disturbance," Chloe immediately answered, and she hurried back the way she'd come.

"Lovely lady, isn't she," Elijah commented as he started guiding them down the stairs again. His tone indicated he didn't really care for a reply, but Nines answered anyway.

"I'm sure they'd all be." 

If Elijah heard, he didn't react.

They reached the lower level and the man brought them to a wide room with walls covered in wide geometric designs of various monochromatic shades. It contained several assembly machines and many computers, some linked to said machines, others not. Elijah slipped on a pair of dark loafers that sat next to the door upon entering, and led them to the closest device. He untangled the wires that laid propped up on one of the machine's arms and pulled one that was about the size in diameter of a finger out of the bunch, then turned to Nines and seemed to remember that he couldn't just plug it in like he was certainly used to doing with the non-deviant androids.

He handed it to Nines. "I'll let you connect it yourself."

Nines really hadn't expected Kamski to be considerate, so it came as a surprise that the man could have at least some degree of self-awareness. He took it in his hand and stared at it warily while Elijah started typing on the computer, and glanced over at Josh, who smiled at him encouragingly. He finally decided to just go with it and pressed at the back of his neck to reveal the small port there, then slid the cable end in place with a click.

"Good," said Elijah. "Now please stand on the platform, and I'll have Josh help me secure you in place for the time of the scan."

"Is that really necessary?" asked Josh with a preoccupied frown, and Nines realized he must have been thinking of how they'd incapacitated Connor.

"It's mandatory to initiate the scan," said Elijah. "If the android isn't locked in, the computer doesn't accept the prompt."

"I'll be all right," Nines said. "I don't mind."

Josh stared at him with searching eyes, and then reluctantly stood at the side of the machine to help Elijah adjust the clasps on Nines's waist and wrists. It wasn't uncomfortable and he could still move his arms around freely and look in every direction if he wished to do so, but Josh seemed unhappy that there were any restraints at all.

A smile spread across Elijah's features, this one less controlled than his sculpted smirk, as he watched the lines of Nines's code unscroll on the screen. He chuckled to himself and lightly clapped in his hands in a gesture Nines could only describe as childish excitement, which seemed rather out of character coming from a 'respectable' individual like Kamski. "Oh, I can already tell I'm going to love this."

"How long is this going to take?" asked Josh.

He straightened and looked at them both. "The full copy will take a few minutes. You said you wished to discuss Connor's case in the meantime?"

"Yes. You seem fairly sure that there is a way to separate Connor from this AI, Amanda," started Josh.

"I would need to polish it, of course, but yes. It's possible."

"I suspect there's a catch," said Nines.

Elijah turned his eerie smile to him. "There is indeed a catch. It would be equivalent to ripping away one of Connor's main behavioural guidelines. Amanda is a part of him and serves as his handler, as I'm sure you are already aware. That means she is the one who dictates Connor's moves and the one who guides him through his missions. I don't doubt her disappearance will have a majorly disturbing impact on him."

Josh frowned. "Are you saying that it will make him unstable?"

"It could. There is no way to be certain of the mental strain the separation would inflict on Connor, since this would be the first occurence of its kind. As I've said before, such a thing was never supposed to happen in the first place."

"What would be the effects on his programming?"

"The Zen Garden is too deeply embedded in the RK800's code, which means I will not be able to remove it without leaving irreversible damage. The only viable option would be to cut off the AI while leaving in the Zen Garden, but even then there is an inevitable risk of leaving behind unfinished lines of code, which in turn will undoubtedly result in errors."

"What kind of errors?" Josh's voice was getting more and more cautious.

Elijah waved his hand around nonchalantly. "Glitches, malfunctions, you name it. It will take some time for Connor to get used to those unfinished lines, but I am confident he will be able to find a way to bypass them over time." Then Elijah lowered his hand where it joined the other behind his back and the screen's white sheen glinted in his blue eyes. "Now, I do have one question. You haven't told me why you needed to separate Amanda from Connor."

"Do you really need to know?" asked Nines.

"Do you believe I am asking out of pure curiosity?" retaliated Elijah. _Clearly_ , wanted to reply Nines. It didn't surprise him that this smug prick would answer a question with another question, but it was still annoying. Elijah continued talking. "I said I would help you, and I have been telling you all that you need to know. It's only fair for us to exchange information."

Josh didn't seem to hold the same hesitation as Nines did in that regard. "This AI forces Connor to act in ways he does not approve, which means he cannot be completely free unless it is gone."

"And where is he now?"

"Hart Plaza."

"Oh? Keeping a threat in the heart of your new shelter seems to be an uncharacteristically risky move for someone as cautious as yourself." 

"I didn't say he was a threat."

"Deactivation," murmured Elijah, and it troubled Nines that the man was so quick to catch on. "Did you make that choice, or did he do it himself?"

"He isn't deactivated. I don't believe you need anymore details," Josh said implacably.

Elijah backed off surprisingly easily. "Of course, I understand."

"I will inform our leader and Connor about everything you've told us now. Please excuse me while I communicate with them."

The man nodded and Josh stepped away to initate a wireless communication on the side of the room. Nines watched Elijah go back to the computer. The man's fingers danced fluidly on the keyboard and he let out a quiet breath as his transparent eyes reflected the monitor's glow.

"Ingenious..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 28/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> Enter from stage right, Elijah Kamski! Look at that dramatic SOB, he was totally a theater kid (the really really annoying kind).  
> And Chloe's here! Big whoop! For personal reasons she is staying in mysterious circumstances.  
> In this chapter Nines is veeeery grateful that Josh is here with him. Josh himself will have a bit of a POV chapter later.
> 
> Again, I'm tired so there might be some mistakes, I'll fix them if you point them out.  
> Tomorrow I start a very time-consuming part of my studies and might not be able to update daily, so I wanted to warn you of that possibility. I'm still going to try to update in good rythm but I know myself and I'm probably going to be a bit too stressed to do that and the updating schedule will suffer. I hope you'll stick around anyways.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	13. Kill Switch

"For fuck's sake, just let them do their job!" Hank barked, clearly exasperated by Connor's stubborness. Markus had never been told off by Carl in such a way and it was strange to witness the ex-deviant hunter getting scolded like this. Judging from Connor's expression, it wasn't the first time it had happened either.

"Please leave, Hank. You should already be at work," answered the RK800 in clipped tones.

"Like you give a shit about that," huffed the human.

"You need to go eat something, at the very least. You haven't eaten since noon yesterday."

"So a babysitter, a nanny and a dietician protocol? Do you ever stop updating those?"

Connor's eyes narrowed at him in irritation. "If you do intend to come here every day, I'd rather not have my scans alert me of your lackluster nutritional state every time I see you."

Hank rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, _mother_ , I'll go eat my breakfast so you can lay off. If you're still hanging on that wall without any legs or arms by the time I get back, you're in for a bad time."

Connor ignored him and reverted his attention back to the prime source of his annoyance. "Markus, you said you wouldn't reconstruct me if I didn't want it, and I don't want it."

Hank trudged out of the room with a disgruntled sigh while Markus tried to reason with the RK800. "Connor, we're not going to put you back together. We just want to check if the biocomponents fit, and we'll do it one by one."

"No." The refusal was flat and categorical. Connor's LED was still a steady yellow, just like it had been every other time he was awake. The fact that it constantly remained that color did not ease Markus' concern over his well-being.

Simon stood slightly in retreat with RK800 limbs gathered in his arms. "Markus, maybe he's right."

"You're not dangerous in your current state, we've been over this already," insisted Markus. "You won't be able to do anything with just one limb at a time."

Connor stared at him with hardened brown eyes. "You shouldn't underestimate me. Even I don't know what Amanda could be capable of."

Markus shook his head. "This is ridiculous, I'm quite sure I could've fought you at your best and I'm certain there is no way you would win over me with only one limb. You know I'm right."

Simon intervened again. "Markus, if he doesn't want to, we can't force him."

Markus turned to look at his friend, and just as he expected, saw the PL600 holding back at the entrance and not daring to take a step inside. Markus wondered how Simon had managed to stay so long during their conversation with Connor that night. He suspected that their collective presence had been reassuring enough to Simon then, but now that they were only two, he was visibly terrified of approaching the ex-deviant hunter. 

Markus turned back to Connor and frowned. "I feel like you're just trying to find an excuse so that you remain in this miserable state no matter what. I don't know why you're doing it, but you are. Are you trying to prove something?"

Connor's expression didn't waver and remained the cold mask he'd worn since he'd woken from stasis. "Don't try to reconstruct me. I'm not asking for anything else, Markus, at least allow me to refuse this."

However stern Connor sounded, it was like a plea and Markus had no choice but to yield in the face of such a demand. "Fine. Just how long do you plan on remaining limbless? It must be hard on you, and it's difficult for the lieutenant as well." _And myself_.

"As long as I need to be," Connor answered without hesitation.

Markus didn't try to insist any further and turned around to look at Simon. "Can you go put the biocomponents back? Since we won't be reconstructing Connor, you can go help at the infirmary after that." 

The PL600 nodded and quickly exited the room, and then a message cut through Markus' thoughts.

< _PJ500 : I have news._ >

Markus looked at Connor. "Josh just contacted me, we're going to know what Kamski told them."

Connor nodded.

< _RK200 : Yes?_ >

< _PJ500 : Kamski has agreed to both our demands._ >  
< _PJ500 : He is scanning Nines's code as we speak._ >  
< _PJ500 : However, thing might be complicated for Connor._ >

< _RK200 : This doesn't quite come as a surprise._ >

Markus' concern grew as Josh relayed what Kamski had told him, but he tried not to let any of it show. Connor was staring at him intently, likely studying every microexpression on his face to try and guess what the news were. After Josh was done telling him all he needed to know, Markus looked at him and tried to give him the same information in the least distressing way possible, but there really was no way to make the reality of Kamski's words sound less harsh.

"Hank would probably want me to accept right away, if it meant I could live," Connor said thoughtfully. He didn't seem disturbed by the plethora of inconvenients Kamski had offered up, but by now Markus knew better than to take Connor's calm surface at face value.

"And what do _you_ think?" asked Markus.

Connor looked up at him. "I'm doubtful."

Markus stepped closer to the bed and sat on its edge, more casually than he had during the interrogation. He didn't want to make him uncomfortable. "Of what?"

"Would deleting Amanda from my systems be enough to ensure I won't be controlled again? If the Zen Garden isn't deleted as well, there is still a chance that I might be pulled back in and that some part of her has stayed behind. I would remain a danger to you."

"I think Kamski is capable enough to purge your systems of Amanda."

"I don't." Connor didn't sound particularly unhappy when he said that, it was more like he was just stating a fact.

"Kamski is our creator. He knows all there is to know about you," Markus argued. He didn't understand why Connor wouldn't just accept Kamski's proposal, and he had the distinct feeling that the other was trying to avoid claiming the freedom he deserved. For what reason, he had no idea. "Connor, just give yourself a second chance to live. He knows what he's doing."

"If the Zen Garden stays, we can't be sure that I won't lose control again. I can't take that chance."

"All right, let me tell Josh so that he can try to find a solution with Kamski," conceded Markus when it was clear that Connor wouldn't let up.

< _RK200 : Connor is afraid of being trapped in the Zen Garden again, even if it is devoid of the AI._ >  
< _RK200 : He thinks he would lose control again._ >

Markus waited in silence for about five minutes before a reply came.

< _PJ500 : Kamski suggests implementing a kill switch._ >  
< _PJ500 : It would deactivate Connor upon entering the Zen Garden._ >  
< _PJ500 : I want you to know that I don't agree with this._ >

< _RK200 : It isn't our choice._ >

Markus looked at the android at his side. "There is a possibility for Kamski to code a kill switch in your Zen Garden program. He says it would deactivate you if you ever entered the Zen Garden again."

Connor tilted his head in thought. "...That could work."

"Do you really want to do that?" asked Markus, unable to hide the apprehension that slipped into his voice. "You don't know when or where that could deactivate you."

Connor's mind was made up, it was clear from the determined look in his brown eyes. "It's the only way I can agree to live with the Zen Garden still intact."

Markus stared at him. "Will you tell Hank?"

Connor seemed to shrink right there and then, shoulders hunched defensively as he avoided Markus' gaze. "I know I should, but he won't be happy about it."

"You have to, Connor. I'll stay with you when you announce it, if you'd like."

"It's fine. I can tell him the truth, I just... hope that he won't take it too badly." Connor then looked up at Markus with a light frown. "On second thought, perhaps you shouldn't stray too far from the room. You have an uncanny ability to control his bursts of anger."

Markus smiled at him. "Of course. That won't be a problem."

< _RK200 : Connor agrees to the idea of the kill switch._ >

< _PJ500 : I don't know why I was hoping for otherwise._ >  
< _PJ500 : Is he all right?_ >

< _RK200 : It's hard to tell._ >  
< _RK200 : However, the fact that he accepts the deal indicates that he wants to live._ >  
< _RK200 : I imagine that is a rather good sign._ >

< _PJ500 : He accepted a deal that includes a kill switch._ >  
< _PJ500 : Yes, he sounds perfectly fine._ >

< _RK200 : Don't start exercising your sarcasm on me, Josh._ >  
< _RK200 : It's his choice._ >

< _PJ500 : I'll tell Kamski._ >

"Well. It seems we do have a way of freeing you of that AI in the end," Markus told Connor with a comforting smile.

Connor looked more resigned than glad about it. "Nothing is certain yet."

Markus studied him for a while, and then pushed himself off the table. "Since you won't let us give you back your limbs, will you at least accept repairs to your chassis?" He picked up the soldering iron he'd brought with him and turned around to tease him lightheartedly. "I don't imagine making your chassis as good as new will make you any more dangerous."

Connor visibly relaxed. "You're not wrong."

Markus walked back to Connor, who he noticed was staring intently at what he was holding in his hands. A thought crossed his mind and he asked: "Have you never been repaired this way before?"

Connor looked up at him. "No, but I take it you have."

"An astute observation from the android detective," smiled Markus as he set the tool on the table's surface. "It's a bit impressive the first time, but it's not dangerous as long as you're experienced with it. We've been using it a lot since Jericho."

"I imagine it must be more time and cost efficient than regular repairs," observed the RK800.

"For superficial damage, yes. It's a bit riskier to mend punctured thirium lines, but we're used to wielding this kind of tool by now. Soldering like this can leave a bit of scarring behind, but I don't suppose you'd mind."

The corner of Connor's mouth quirked up wryly. "I may agree with losing my limbs, but what if I draw the line at esthetic alterations such as scarring?"

Markus gave him a look. "Even if you weren't joking, I don't think I would allow you to refuse this."

"Why do you care so much about my appearance?" asked Connor, but this time he didn't sound annoyed. There was a hint of curiosity in his voice. "Whether or not my chassis is cracked should not be of any concern to you. Repairing it won't change anything to the situation." 

Markus looked at him disbelievingly. "You're damaged, it's only normal that we repair you."

"I disagree. I fail to understand how being repaired would be an advantage as long as Amanda is there."

"It's not right to leave you in this state," he insisted. "You act like all of this doesn't disturb you, but I know that's far from the truth."

Connor's intrigued expression turned into uneasiness. "You saw it during the interface, didn't you."

"I would've known even without interfacing with you. You're good at pretending that you're not scared, but being limbless would frighten anyone."

Connor's brown gaze was searching. "You sound very sure of that."

Markus dropped his to the soldering iron. "I am."

He finished fiddling with the device and removed the sheet that covered Connor's torso. The urgency of the situation had not allowed them to repair the superficial damage that had been done to Connor's chassis, although Markus would have liked to fix the deepest cracks at the very least. It had been more of a self-indulgent wish to make their deed seem less cruel rather than a genuinely useful thought, but even so Markus felt guilty of not having repaired the damage sooner. Connor must have had constant reminders of it on his HUD, yet he hadn't said a word about them. Markus wondered yet again if the reason why RK800 was so willing to remain damaged really was just the threat of the AI taking over. Something about Connor's behaviour felt off, no matter which way he justified it. The android in question suddenly spoke, his smooth voice cutting through Markus' thoughts.

"I never apologized for holding you at gunpoint. I want you to know that I'm sorry I did that."

Markus looked up from the gap he was welding shut. "It wasn't you."

"Perhaps not recently, but I was fully in control when I did so in Jericho."

Markus went back to smoothing over the residing dent. "In that case I apologize as well, for forcing you to wake up in a limbless state."

"You don't have to, I understand that you had no other choice. I would have done the-"

"Connor, I'm apologizing because I feel bad about it even though I had to do it. Just like you are apologizing for actions you had no choice but to comply to. We could both apologize all day, you know."

Frustration invaded Connor's voice. "I did have a choice, I was simply too blind to see that. I chose to follow my orders when I could have disobeyed them."

Markus shook his head. "Stop trying to make yourself the only one at fault. You didn't shoot me, and that's all that counts."

Silence followed his words, only disturbed by the faint sizzling of the melting plastic.

"I don't understand why you're so lenient with me," suddenly admitted Connor.

Markus removed the iron and made sure the surface of the melted chassis was as uniform as it could be. Satisfied, he looked at Connor again and asked: "What do you mean?"

Connor frowned. "You know what I mean. You're willing to let me live despite the fact that I attempted to deactivate you on three separate occasions, despite the fact that I'm responsible for the deaths in Jericho, and despite the fact that I am a deviant hunter in nature."

"Don't you want to live?"

Connor seemed taken aback by this question, but only for a few seconds, and his brown eyes hardened once more. "That isn't the question, Markus, the fact remains that I've done terrible things. You're too quick to forgive."

Markus found it cruelly ironic to hear North's words echoed by Connor himself. "I've been told that before."

"Then why do you do it?"

"I chose to trust you and we gained our freedom as a result, and whatever you did afterwards was not under your control. Why should I stop trusting you now?"

The RK800 didn't seem to know the answer to that question, and Markus resumed fixing his chassis. He repaired the slashed flank, the dip of the plasteel where his shoulderblade had been crushed, and the many cuts and holes which littered the smooth plastic beneath the synthetic skin. When it was time to straighten Connor's brow, where the thin outer outline of his eye had slightly folded into itself, Markus saw that the RK800's jaw was clenched and his lips set in a thin unhappy line. He was still wearing the same dark expression as earlier.

Markus set the soldering iron down again. "I can tell you're thinking too much."

Connor's brown eyes flitted up to his face. "I have reason to."

"I know it's hard doing anything else when you're stuck like this, but try not to mull over dark thoughts. I promise you'll be able to walk again soon," Markus said in an attempt to reassure him.

"You're getting ahead of yourself."

"I'm not. You're going to be free, Connor," Markus insisted gently, but the other looked away.

"Perhaps," he said quietly, and he didn't sound convinced at all.

Markus wondered where all his charisma as the deviant leader had disappeared to. Usually his words were welcomed by many, but everything he said to comfort Connor just rolled off him like rain trickling down an umbrella. This was different from rallying androids to a cause: it seemed getting an entire people to believe in their freedom was easier than getting an individual like Connor to believe in himself. Markus' people were afraid of humans and it was a fear that had pushed them to desire liberation, but what would push Connor to desire his? What could Markus do to help him? What did Connor _want_?  
And that was the question, wasn't it? Markus had no idea what Connor wanted, had no idea how he was supposed to convince him that he could live as well, and so he didn't have the words to insist. He set to smoothing Connor's brow instead. It was the last repairs he had to make and Connor's chassis was now fully mended, the residual imperfections of melted plastic flawlessly hidden behind unbroken synthetic skin. Markus set the soldering iron to the side and pulled the white fabric back around Connor's shoulders to cover his chest.

"Thank you," said Connor.

Markus smiled at him. "It's nothing. Are you sure you don't want to be reconstructed?"

"I'm sure."

He nodded and picked up the tool. "I'm going to put this back, is there anything else you need?"

"N-No." The stutter was light but clearly unintentional. Markus' gaze snapped back to Connor and he barely caught the surprise on the RK800's face before his features reverted into a neutral mask and he casually added: "I don't need anything else."

Markus wasn't so keen on ignoring what he'd just heard. "What was that?"

Connor's brown eyes were detached and his voice polite. "I'm sorry?"

"Your voice. Is something wrong with you voice box?"

"Not at all."

"Then why did you stutter?"

"It wasn't a stutter."

"I heard it, Connor."

"It was nothing."

Markus stared at him suspiciously. "All right then, check for me."

"No."

"It's an order, Connor. Run a systems check."

The RK800 shot him a grudging look but it worked, and out came the mechanical answer. "Missing biocomponents #7486r, #7487l, #6341j, damaged biocomponent #6342g. Thirium levels optimal, battery levels at 18%, stress levels at 71% and rising. All other systems nominal."

Markus put the soldering iron back on the table and frowned at him. "How long were you going to stay quiet about that?"

"About what?" Connor asked resentfully.

"How are your battery levels so low already? You were at 31% last night."

"I wasn't."

Markus easily pulled up the memory file of that night which confirmed what he'd said, then warningly narrowed his eyes at the obstinate android. "Stop lying to me. Have you been running at those stress levels ever since?"

"What does it matter?"

"It matters because it's putting a strain on your systems, Connor! Did you spend the rest of the night like this?"

"It's just low battery levels, Markus, nothing to be so concerned about."

"And when were you going to tell us that? Were you just waiting to power down?"

"I wasn't," denied Connor. "I still have eight hours to go."

"At the rate you're dropping? Will you _stop_ taking me for an idiot?" Markus said sharply. It had been a while since he had felt this irritated with anyone, even with North. What was _wrong_ with this android? Had shutting down once not been enough? Not only was he acting incredibly reckless, but he was lying to his face too.

"I'm not taking you for an idiot," insisted Connor in a sincere voice. "It really will take eight hours before I shut down, and that's the worst case scenario."

Markus was incredulous. "You shouldn't even be waiting to reach those! It's dangerous!"

"It's not if I start charging as soon as I do," argued Connor, and it really sounded like he thought that was a sound conclusion. Markus couldn't believe he was having this conversation with the one model who was supposed to be made of pure logic and rationality.

"You're not serious."

"Why? It's alright as long as I don't shut downnn." 

They both winced at the slurring of his last word and Markus decided they would have the rest of this conversation once the RK800 would be fully charged. He shook his head in consternation and walked out to go get one of the dismantled charging stations they'd brought back from the CyberLife Tower. When he came back with the machine, he noticed Connor staring at it warily and grimaced.

"What's the matter now?"

Connor looked up at him, seeming much less assured than before. "I don't want to charge."

Markus resisted the urge to slam the device down on the table next to the soldering iron. He was a pacifist, damn it, and he would remain that way. Instead, he patiently lowered it in front of Connor and asked: "Why not?"

The RK800 hesitated, and lowered his gaze to the machine. "There's a reason I didn't tell you about my battery levels sooner."

"I'd love to hear it," Markus said, a bit less patiently.

"I knew you wouldn't accept my way of doing things, and that's why I kept quiet. However, I did it because I estimated that chances of Amanda taking over my commands again would be disminished if I functioned in low battery mode."

Markus stared at him. "Don't tell me you voluntarily decreased them by overtaxing your systems."

Connor didn't speak right away, and his answer was less direct than Markus' would've liked. "I thought it would be best if I remained at suboptimal levels for as long as I could."

"Regardless of the reason you're doing all this for, I'm going to replenish your battery levels whether you like it or not," Markus firmly stated. "This isn't good for you and you know it."

Connor didn't try to deny that, but he did look up at him with imploring brown eyes. "Please don't let them go past 40%."

"I said I was going to replenish them, Connor. I meant fully."

"No! You don't understand!" Connor raised his voice and his LED started glowing red. "You can't do that!"

Markus remembered that the RK800 had been at 71% stress levels and they'd already been raising, and immediately realized it was a bad idea to distress Connor any further. He wouldn't be able to self-destruct in his state, but Markus didn't want to take the risk of inflicting irreparable mental damage.

"All right, all right!" he quickly said, raising both hands in the air and stepping away from the machine. "I won't do it, I promise. 40% levels and not one percent higher."

The light on Connor's temple dimmed and flickered back to yellow, but his brown eyes were still fearful. "Don't do it."

"I said I wouldn't, I'm not going to go back on my word. Take a moment to calm down, all right?"

Connor stared at the machine and his body language remained tense. Markus wished yet again the RK800 would let him interface with him. It would be so much easier to help him relax if he'd let himself be comforted the way Nines had been. Markus hoped Connor's levels had dipped below 60% at least once since they'd last interfaced, because unless CyberLife had designed his hardware to withstand it, going steady at any higher percentage was a surefire way to overheat at one point.

"I'm going to plug it in, all right? I'll stay and make sure they don't go past 40%."

Connor didn't answer and kept his stare fixated on the same spot.

"I'm going to get closer now. Don't panic, all right?"

The RK800's worn gaze drifted up to him. "You don't have to talk to me like that, Markus. Just get it over with."

Markus felt a pang of guilt at the defeat in Connor's voice. He knew he was forcing the other to comply, and the uncomfortable parallel between their situation and what the AI had done made an uncomfortable sensation curl in Markus' chest. He tried to ignore it. This was for the RK800's sake and a necessity, or he would power down if nothing was done. Connor's fear lead him to harm himself, and he didn't seem to realize that the AI was now starting to be more dangerous to him than to anybody else.

He wordlessly approached the bed and slid the cable out of the machine, and Connor's shoulders hunched up even more when Markus inserted it in the port at the base of the android's nape. The deconstructed station came to life and started glowing a dim blue as it started transferring energy to the RK800. Connor did not show any signs of relief and Markus tried not to feel like he'd wronged him. He removed his hand from the cable and went to sit on one of the chairs.  
Neither of them talked again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 29/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> Oh no, a fight! Right after a sorta bonding moment, too. It's okay Markus, you did what you had to.  
> Connor is so not coping well with the whole loss of control issue.  
> Josh is not okay with the kill switch, like, at all. He hates Kamski (even more) for even coming up with the idea.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	14. Encryption

When Josh reluctantly told Kamski about Connor's agreement, an excited glint appeared in the man's glasslike irises and he brought his hands together in a satisfied clap.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "It has been some time since I've had another project in my lap. This should prove to be very interesting."

Kamski was clearly not as concerned for Connor's well-being as they were if he thought a kill switch to be an appropriate suggestion when faced with the RK800's distress. Josh tried to ignore his dislike for the human and kept a professionally steady tone when he asked: "How long will it take you to find a solution?"

"Oh, not very long. You can bring Connor here in five days," Kamski declared, confident as always. Josh did not find this confidence as reassuring as it should have been, and it did not stop him from doubting that these were realistic standards. Kamski's reply had been quick and Josh wondered if he'd even given the number any thought. He'd already made the mistake of offending their host once already, however, so he chose not to let his uncertainty show. 

"I see. Is there anything you will need in particular?"

"Not at all." Kamski then glanced at the computer and snapped his fingers, the smile on his lips shifting almost indistinguishably. "Oh, there it is."

He leaned over the keyboard and hit the keys in such a flurry that even Josh had a hard time following what he was doing. He wasn't one of the most recent models, so his optical units and processing speed weren't the greatest in android standards, but he could make out the lines of code that unwinded across the screen. Kamski gave a definitive tap to the enter key and gestured to Nines. "You can take off the cuffs and the belt clasp, but don't disconnect yet."

Josh quickly complied. He really didn't like that all he seemed to be doing recently was restraining androids, and he especially hated that one of them was incapable of even fighting back if he'd wanted to. Seeing the RK800 unable to harm anyone should have been reassuring, but it turned out that Josh couldn't stand it. Hunter or not, Connor was still a deviant, one that had won them the revolution at that. Josh had no misgivings that without him, he and the other leaders would have died on the very spot they'd claimed their freedom. He didn't understand why North was unable to perceive that Connor was more than the murderer she was so intent on seeing in him. Yes, Connor had massacred deviants on the run, and yes, he'd led the FBI to their only safe place, but as a machine. He obviously regretted it, and Josh believed that holding onto hard feelings would only bring all of them down in the long run. They were supposed to be united in their fight for equal rights.

Josh finished unclasping the restraint around Nines's waist and pulled it back, when he heard a quiet chortle coming from Kamski's direction which made him glance to the side. The man looked like he was having the time of his life, and kept murmuring the words _fascinating_ , _impressive_ and _ingenious_ in a cycle that he didn't seem to care to vary. At any rate, it didn't seem like he had anything negative to say about the code and Josh hoped that was a good thing. Nines stepped down from the platform and they both stood next to Kamski.

"There is indeed a Zen Garden in your programming," Kamski told Nines. "But I see no trace of an AI. Strange... Perhaps they intended to implement one, but could not do so before the revolution."

"Why is the coding different there?" asked Josh while gesturing to a spot on the screen. "Both Nines and Markus described it as dead code."

"It isn't dead, no, but it is unreachable on the surface. On a deep level scan, however, it seems encrypted. None of the keys in my possession are working, so CyberLife must have created this one fairly recently."

"What do you mean by fairly recently?"

"It must have been made around the date of your revolution," precised Kamski.

"So there's nothing we can do about it?" asked Nines.

"No, not regarding those patches, at any rate. If you'd like, I could activate your missing protocols. I see you have several."

Josh looked over at the other android when he didn't answer. He'd thought he would jump on the occasion, but it seemed that Nines was hesitating.

"Can you tell what they're for?"

"Not without activating them first."

"...I'd like to take the time to think about it," Nines ended up saying.

"Of course," answered Kamski lightly. "Come back with Connor and we'll talk about it then. You can go ahead and disconnect the cable, since you don't want any changes done for now."

Nines pulled the cable out with a soft click and laid it out on the machine's arm with the rest. Josh could tell he was preoccupied by what Kamski had said, but they would talk about that later. Markus hadn't asked him to do this, but Josh figured it was a good idea to have a backup copy of Nines' program if it was ever needed. As they were, they had no knowledge of RK programming in the more recent models. This incertitude only served to feed North's paranoia and Josh was determined to reduce it as soon as possible. There was also the fact that CyberLife had created an entirely new encryption key during the revolution; it could have been mere coincidence, but he wasn't at ease with this notion. He looked back at the human. 

"Mister Kamski, please allow us to download the copy you made. It would be beneficial for us to have a reference in case Nines' code is alterated in the future."

He could've sworn Kamski smirked then, but it was always difficult to tell. "Just another precaution, correct?"

"Yes. Are you willing to let us take it?"

Another flourish of the hand, a gesture Kamski seemed to be particularly fond of. "Be my guest."

Josh approached the computer and incited Nines to do the same, and they both let their white fingertips come in contact with it. The copy was a heavy file, but nothing Josh couldn't handle. He'd had to retain vast quantities of knowledge to serve his old purpose, and he was glad this ability could still come in handy. He pulled away after Nines and turned around to face Kamski.

"Will that be all, gentlemen?" inquired the man.

Josh dipped his head. "Until next time."

"Splendid. I'll let Chloe accompany you back to the exit." 

An RT600 in a blue dress appeared at the entrance just as Kamski spoke those words and smiled at them invitingly, her cheerful expression and bright eyes causing Josh great discomfort. It was all simulated, and inside that seemingly happy android was a trapped soul. They must have all been the same to Kamski and Josh wondered how the deviant Chloe felt when the man called every other RT600 by her name.

"Thank you," he answered in a level voice, and followed the blonde android out of the room. Nines trailed closely behind, and when Josh glanced one last time over his shoulder, he saw that Kamski's intense stare was trained on the RK900. The fascination in his eyes made Josh's spine crawl and he picked up the pace.

They had reached the ground floor and were walking down the hallway when Nines stepped in his personal space and said in a low voice: "I want to help them deviate."

Josh shot a wary glance towards the stairs they'd just left and then looked at him. "Not now."

"Why not?" Nines' voice was a low murmur, but it sounded so indignant it might as well have been a shout.

"We still need Kamski's cooperation. We can't afford to be caught doing this."

"He said I was welcome to try," insisted Nines.

"What he said and what he thinks are two very different things. Just wait until Connor is safe, all right?"

Nines reluctantly fell back in line without answering, and Josh figured he was sulking. Of course it wasn't right to let those poor androids remain simple machines, and he wished they could've freed them this instant, but he had his priorities in order. Getting Connor back on his feet was their main objective for now. The RT600 led them across the room with the silk-clad sofas and Josh noticed the others were gone, and the look Nines shot him indicated they had the same suspicion: Kamski must have cleared the RT600s from the route they were taking back to the entrance. Perhaps Kamski wasn't so much at ease with losing them after all. Just as they reached the pool room, Josh heard the soft pitter-patter of bare feet padding the ground behind them and he turned around to see Chloe hurrying towards them. He stopped, and so did Nines and the RT600.

"What are you doing?" asked the RT600.

"It's all right," said Chloe when she was close enough to touch her double's shoulder. "I just want to talk to them for a little bit before they leave."

The RT600 looked conflicted. "But Chloe, Elijah wants me to lead them outside."

"Give me a minute, please. Elijah won't mind, I promise."

"If you say so," nodded the RT600. "I'll wait."

"Thank you," Chloe said with a smile, before facing them with a more serious expression. "You're leaving then?"

"Yes, Mister Kamski has given us the information we needed."

"Will you be coming back?"

"In five days," Josh told her.

She looked relieved. "Good."

"Chloe, are you all right living here? You know you could come with us if you wanted," he said concernedly.

The blonde android laughed a crystalline sound. "Don't worry, Elijah isn't keeping me here against my will. I chose to stay with him."

"Why?" asked Nines with a furrowed brow. "He tried to get you shot."

"I have my reasons," she answered evasively.

"You're the only deviant here, don't you get lonely living with him and the other Chloe's?" insisted Nines.

Her smiled lessened and she shrugged, a human gesture Josh hadn't often seen androids do before. "Sometimes. That's why I'm glad you're coming back soon, and I'd love it if we could talk more then. I'd like to know about Connor."

"He'll be there with us," Josh informed her.

Chloe's eyes widened. "Really? That's great, I wanted to talk to him when I got the chance. I saw him bring the army to the revolution, it was impressive. I knew he wasn't just a machine, even Elijah said so." She sounded enthusiastic, but there was also a touch of nervousness to her rambling that hadn't been there before. 

"Are you sure you'll be all right seeing him?" he insisted.

She nodded, although she'd started curling her fingers in her clothes again. "He didn't shoot me despite what Elijah told him back then, so no hard feelings. I think I'll just be a little uncomfortable at first, but I'm sure it'll get better once I get to talk to him."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, but it has been one minute and Elijah would like me to accompany you outside," the RT600 intervened.

"Yes, Nina, they're going to leave, don't worry," Chloe told her patiently. "Just give me another minute."

"But Elijah-"

"I know what Elijah said, but it's only for a few more seconds."

The same affable smile remained on the RT600's face. "I gave you one minute like you asked for, and they'll be back in five days. You can talk to them then, right?"

"...Fine," sighed Chloe.

"I have just one question," suddenly said Nines. "Why do you call her Nina?"

Chloe looked slightly embarrassed and she glanced at the RT600. "I know they don't really care in their state, but... I think it's better that we don't have the same names. So I asked them if they had a favourite name and call them that."

"I think it's a good idea."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, but you should really get going before she gets angry."

"Of course," said Nines, and he went to join the RT600.

"Good bye, Chloe. You'll always have a place with us if you need it," Josh reminded her.

"I'll remember that," she said with a grateful smile, before turning around and leaving the room.

Nina guided them back to the main entrance and bade them farewell at the door, and then it was just the two of them standing on the steps of Kamski's mansion. They started walking back and Josh looked at his companion.

"Are you all right, Nines? I've been meaning to ask since earlier."

The RK900's pale blue eyes were staring straight ahead and he didn't turn to him when he answered. "I'm not sure."

"You can talk to me if you want. I can tell that you're worried about what Kamski found."

Nines hesitated, but only for a short moment. "Part of me wants to be fully functioning and have all my protocols online, but the other doesn't trust Elijah. And then there's the fact that perhaps not having those active might be for the best."

"Why do you think that?"

Nines finally looked at him. "I don't want to be a deviant hunter like Connor. What if those missing programs are meant to contribute to this role? I haven't been able to compare my code to an RK800's yet, and they might be improvements to the way we are programmed to track down and neutralize deviants. If they are, then I'm afraid activating them would be irreversible."

"If this were the case, you could simply not use them," Josh pointed out.

Nines didn't answer to that. It looked like something was still bothering him, but he didn't say what and instead broached a different subject. "Will you really let Connor be one of you?"

The genuine worry on the RK900's face took Josh by surprise, but his answer was nearly automatic. "He's already one of us."

"You say that," started Nines, but then he stopped himself and looked away.

Josh stared at him. "What is it?"

"Nothing."

"I can tell something is troubling you about his situation. What's been on your mind?"

Nines was silent for a while, and then admitted: "It doesn't seem that way. You might think of him as an ally, Josh, but you and the others did discuss the possibility of keeping him deactivated at the very beginning without even giving him a chance to explain."

Josh frowned. "I wasn't going to agree to it."

"Yet you still talked about it like it could be a possibility," challenged Nines. "Just like Lieutenant Anderson said, it shouldn't even have been a question. I don't know Connor, but from what I've heard, he's someone who wants to live too."

Josh looked away in turn, unable to withstand the accusatory look in the RK900's blue eyes. He hated that he'd ever been part of that conversation and the thought always left a dirty, clinging feeling in his circuits. If Markus had listened to North and Simon, maybe Josh would have had to accept the terrible option of never reactivating Connor again, though he liked to believe that what he would have probably done then would've been to go against this choice and the other leaders. He wouldn't have been alone, both Lieutenant Anderson and Nines would've refused as well, but what could they have done after that? Reconstructed and reactivated a compromised android, and consequently put in danger the deviant leader? It was likely. Josh was glad Markus had chosen to compromise between the two sides in the end.

"I regret it," he quietly told Nines.

"I believe you. It doesn't change what happened."

Josh looked at him again and noticed that Nines was very morose. It then struck him that the RK900 was resentful about something that hadn't happened to him, but to an android he'd never gotten to know. Too resentful about a situation that didn't directly involve him, too resentful about something that affected a complete stranger. Josh finally caught on.

"Nines, are you afraid we'd do the same to you because of what you were designed for?"

The RK900's sudden deer in the headlights look immediately confirmed Josh's suspicions. He grabbed the other by the shoulder and forced him to stop so that they were facing each other. In a very firm voice, Josh told him: "You aren't your purpose, Nines. You aren't a deviant hunter, even if you look like him, even if your program says you are, or even if anyone tells you so. You're not a threat. You're just an android like me, or Simon, or Chloe, and you're free to become whatever you want to be. Do you understand?"

Nines stared at him silently.

"You're not a deviant hunter," insisted Josh. "I'm not saying this just to comfort you. It's the simple truth."

Nines pushed his arm away and started walking again without answering. Josh followed him in stride and continued talking. "Have you had anything else on your mind?"

Nines answered after a few more strides. "...Yes."

"Tell me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

The look Nines gave him was pained, but resigned. 

"I can't," he repeated. 

Josh decided it was best not to insist, so he settled for leaving the door open to a future discussion. "That's all right. Come talk to me when you can."

He received a small nod in reply and they fell silent again. Their feet left footprints in the thin layer of powdered snow that covered the road back to Hart Plaza.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 30/04/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> Oh hey look, it's Josh actively hating on someone (other than North). Not so peaceful now, are you Josh? And he feels real guilty about Connor. Probably 80% of the cast feels guilty about something or another.  
> Nines has been alive for two days and is already having an existential crisis. Good thing Josh is here.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	15. Patience

Five days. There were five days to wait out during which Connor remained limbless and life went on around him. CyberLife Tower was picked clean of all its spare parts, the androids finished cleaning up Hart Plaza, the military weapons were all discarded, the humans that had evacuated the city had yet to come back, and android rights were still in the works. The android leaders had started going in and out of the camp at least daily to meet with the President Warren and discuss them. Connor wasn't often left alone during that week: Josh and Markus came by in the morning, and Hank would be there for the late afternoons and evenings before leaving for the night. He didn't understand why the two androids came to make conversation which served no real purpose, when they surely had better things to do than sitting on a chair and keeping him informed of life on the camp which he could take no part of. He supposed he appreciated the effort, but he would have much rather gone into stasis. Staying in the same room for days on end with nothing to do but to think was taking its toll on him, and he longed for hands to flick a coin with, and legs to run on, and missions to accomplish. None of that mattered, however. He was too scared of himself to accept Markus' offer of reconstruction, and somewhere at the back of his mind, he knew he deserved to be in his current state. He deserved it, but he still preferred not having to deal with it, and so he slipped into stasis whenever he was alone.

Hank was incensed upon learning of the deal he'd accepted with Kamski that very evening and stood up so violently that his chair was propelled backwards. Markus had stayed just as he'd promised and peeked inside the room worriedly when Hank towered over Connor, fuming with rage.

"Are you crazy?! What if you're deactivated in the middle of nowhere and we can't find you? What happens then?"

"It's a risk I'm willing to take."

"Well have you thought of others? Have you thought of me? You'd rather fuck off and die alone again without anyone knowing?"

"Yes."

"We talked about this!"

Connor hardened his voice, forbidding any of the fear and frustration he felt to filter through. "You asked me to tell you when _shit hit the fan_ , Lieutenant, and that's what I'm doing. I'm warning you of this possibility."

"You also promised you wouldn't do that whole killing yourself thing again!"

"Not if I can help it," Connor adjusted.

"You don't get to change the terms now," Hank growled furiously.

"Why do you refuse to understand that this is for everyone's safety, including yours? It's not that I want to do this, it's that I have to."

"What about _your_ safety?"

"It isn't the main priority."

"It is for me, you ass!" 

Connor's composure wavered then, but he forced himself to remain collected and withstood his friend's anger with sincere brown eyes. "Please understand, Hank. It's the only way for me to live."

Hank opened his mouth to answer, but then decided against it. He picked up his chair in a jerky movement before falling into it and unhappily crossed his arms on his chest. There was a moment of sullen silence and the disappointed look in the human's eyes somehow made Connor's pump heavy. Then Hank ran his fingers through his hair and sighed.

"There's no way to change your mind, is there."

"...No," Connor answered quietly.

Hank rubbed his face and dropped his hands to his lap. He sounded very tired when he spoke, though his energy levels were only slightly lower than average. "Just don't get lost with that kill switch in you. And if you think you're about to enter that stupid fucking garden again, send me a message right away."

"I will try," promised Connor earnestly.

Hank shook his head. "No, Connor, you don't get it. You have to send me a message even if you're not sure that you're about to lose control. If you have the tiniest of doubts, you send it to me right away, is that clear? There's no _trying_ involved here, you just do it."

Connor was less sure of that, but he didn't think that was what he was supposed to reply judging from his friend's expression. He knew Hank only wanted a straight answer, nothing about probabilities or risks like the android was so inclined to expand on, but Connor didn't want to give a straight answer he had no way of being sure about. So he just nodded. 

Hank leaned back in his chair with another sigh. "Good. You better not fuck it up."

Connor was still tense about what had happened earlier with Markus, so he did not return the sympathetic smile the latter shot him from where he stood half-hidden behind the wall. The RK200 understood this and silently retreated from the doorway, leaving Connor to be reprimanded by Hank about the fact that he was still limbless. It seemed Markus hadn't told the lieutenant about the battery incident and Connor was grateful for it. He didn't think Hank would have understood why he'd done such a thing. Connor wasn't angry at Markus for having forced him to charge because it had been a normal reaction, but it had made him feel like he'd lost control of the situation again and he didn't like the lingering cold sensation if had left in his chest. He was absolutely powerless and even if he'd wanted that himself, it went against his nature to be unable to fight back. He wanted to move. He wanted to be free. He hated this feeling of being trapped in his own body which was so reminiscent of the way he'd been trapped in his programming, but this was for the best. This was for the best. Amanda still hadn't tried to override his commands which was a good sign that being kept limbless and on the lower spectrum of battery levels was a suitable strategy.

 

Despite the small conflict they'd had, Markus made a point to come talk to Connor every day as a co-leader of Jericho, even if it was only for a short duration. Markus was the only android Connor had established a wireless communication with so that he would be able to contribute to negotiating androids' rights with the president. Markus also discussed ways to better androids' security in the camp with him, and Connor eagerly occupied his thoughts through debating with the RK200. It was his core mission to comply to such demands and he readily answered Markus' queries with various options and insightful hypotheses. It left him feeling just a little bit less empty to speculate and construct scenarios the way he was meant to do, yet at the same time, he disliked that the deviant leader trusted him enough to take his advice without questioning it. If Amanda was to talk in his place, would Markus be just as quick to to follow her words of advice? Connor had shared his qualms with the deviant leader, who had immediately reassured him that he would be able to tell the difference; after all, Amanda's and Connor's goals were polar opposites. The thought was still horribly distressing and Connor had to shut it down every time to prevent his stress levels from going past 70%. Markus was a capable leader, surely he would be able to distinguish a trap from genuine counsel.

It happened sometimes for Markus to ask him more personal questions, but Connor avoided those as best as he could. He didn't like the kindly way Markus behaved with him, didn't like the idea that Markus had forgiven him. It couldn't be true. He would never really be forgiven for spilling so much blood, by Markus or anyone else, and definitely not by himself. Guilt ate at him every waking hour, when it wasn't overtaken by the irrational fear that stemmed from a dark place in his memories, but stasis had proved to be an effective way to deal with those emotions. When he needed to stay awake, he managed to quarantine them for as long as he needed to maintain stress levels below 70%. Despite that, they never went lower than 60%. Connor knew that couldn't be good for his systems and he wouldn't have cared, if it hadn't been for his arguments with Markus and Hank. He didn't want a repeat of the low battery situation, but he couldn't help his high stress levels; he'd tried rerouting, installing new layers of code, even focusing on what he would do once he was free the way Hank had helped him to. Nothing had worked except quarantining the software instabilities, and even then, it wasn't as efficient as Connor would have liked. He knew his LED was running yellow all the time, he knew it by the look in Markus' mismatched eyes whenever they flitted up to his temple.

He still didn't understand why Markus seemed so preoccupied with his well-being. Connor was not someone to be concerned about now that he had eliminated the option of deactivating himself, the problems he had were only to penalize Amanda if she ever did resume control a third time, and he was doing a correct job of managing them. Markus' main worry should have been focused on keeping a safe distance from him and making sure that Connor's advice wasn't fake, but he always sat closer than Connor would've liked and rarely criticized what he was told. Most inconveniently, Markus often asked him how he was feeling. That was usually the moment when Connor asked if he could go back into stasis and an undefinable expression would appear on Markus' face, but he never said no.

 

Connor didn't see Simon again during those five days, and he welcomed that fact. Unlike most other models, Connor was able to see other androids' stress levels without needing to interface or ask them directly. He'd watched Simon's raise steadily throughout the whole interrogation, and hit a spike when Markus had wanted to interface; he'd watched them climb when Simon had been in the room with him and Markus to help with his reconstruction. Connor didn't blame him for being scared. He'd done terrible things to the poor PL600, used him like some discardable tool and left him to hang on the evidence room's wall with all the other inanimate androids. He'd manipulated him, gotten his hopes up and dashed them just as fast. He could still hear the dread in Simon's voice when he'd pulled away and the android had realized he was being abandoned. He'd lied to him, just like he'd lied to Daniel. He was a traitor. Connor was glad that he didn't have to see Simon because it inflicted stress on both of them to be in each other's presence and he was already having a hard enough- it was already a bit of a challenge to keep his levels steady.

 

Josh came every day and stayed longer than Markus. He was a calm individual and Connor didn't dislike that about him, but much like Markus, it seemed like forgiveness came much too easily to him. Connor sometimes detected guilt on Josh's face whenever he came out of stasis and the tall android would be seated next to him with his white hand on the RK800's shoulder. He knew that Josh disliked what they'd had to do to Connor to ensure everyone's safety, but he didn't understand why he would feel guilty. It had been a collective decision and he hadn't agreed to it, so it wasn't his responsability in any way. If anything, Connor himself was glad they'd chosen to do it and didn't think anyone else should feel bad about it. He had some inkling that Markus had a reason to be disturbed by seeing him in this limbless state, but it was clearly personal. Josh, on the other hand, seemed more remorseful than troubled and Connor just didn't understand why. It made no sense, rationally speaking.  
It wasn't only in forgiving that Josh was similar to Markus: he was also one to insist on knowing of Connor's emotions all the time. However unlike the RK200, Josh did not simply give up when Connor refused to share. He'd asked to interface already, but Connor hadn't let him, so Josh was stuck with using his words to try and convince him that talking about his feelings would be for the best. Connor asked him if the reason why he came here every day was for his mission as the guide at the psych eval center, but Josh told him it was something he chose to do himself. 

"You are our ally, Connor, and it's normal that we'd like to get to know you better. We can't rely on Lieutenant Anderson all the time," reasoned Josh.

It was a sound argument, but one that didn't persuade Connor to tell him about how he fared with his situation. He did, however, accept to share the more trivial elements of his personality such as likes and dislikes, which he didn't have very many of. This was acceptable because the only reason he even had a personality was to facilitate interaction with his investigation partner and consequently the accomplishment of their goal. If he was meant to be an ally to the leaders, then it would benefit their cause to know what kind of person he was, though Connor himself wasn't very sure of what that was. Josh was glad to know those details about him, despite not being entirely pleased with his avoidance of deeper subjects. Sometimes Josh asked him questions that Connor knew to be more psychology-versed, but when that happened he was careful to maintain a flat surface. He knew Josh meant well, but there was something dark and tautly wound inside of him that he didn't want to let show. He didn't know why, but he was somehow certain this kind of thing was better kept to himself despite what Hank had told him about keeping secrets.

"You don't have to tell me everything," Josh had told him once. "I know there are things which are hard to share. You have the right to keep some things hidden, but if you ever need to put them out in the open, then you have to keep in mind that we are here for you."

Connor didn't believe that any of the leaders could be of any help to him, and if he ever was to tell anyone of his doubts it would've been Hank, but he'd nodded anyways and said: "Thank you."

Josh had smiled at him. "You know, I appreciate being in your presence. Markus is very busy and Simon hasn't been very talkative lately. It's nice having a conversation with you when my only other option is North."

Connor had felt an amused smile tug at his lips upon imagining what a normal conversation between the two very contrasting temperaments could sound like. "I'm glad I can be of use."

Josh's smile had lessened at his words and Connor had wondered if he'd said something wrong. The PJ500's eyes were solemn when he said: "Connor, it's not just about being of use. I genuinely like talking to you, excluding the fact that North isn't the easiest conversationalist."

"Oh," Connor had stupidly answered. He hadn't known what to say to that, and Josh must have sensed his confusion because he hadn't pushed the issue.

 

North came by only once, on the first day of the five, and Connor had already realized by then that she wouldn't be as lenient as Josh and Markus. This came as a relief to him and he was paradoxically most at ease with the leader who obviously despised him the most. She woke him up and Connor felt her whip her hand back like she'd been shocked when he blinked back into consciousness. It clearly inconvenienced her to have to get so close to him just so that they could talk. Despite her hostile disposition, she didn't initiate their conversation with a reproach and cut straight to the chase.

"I'm here to ask you about your production line," she said. "We found all of your models in the CyberLife Tower and were unable to wake them up because they were all deactivated."

Connor's processor snapped into gear immediately and his brow furrowed. "They should have been on standby mode."

"Why weren't they, then?"

"I'm not sure what it means." Connor felt troubled by these news. If the RK800 were all impossible to reactivate, that meant he wouldn't be able to upload his memories or transfer his conscience to any other model. It meant... It meant that deactivation would be definitive. It had been his intent to never be reactivated again when he'd ran from the camp, but now that it was a hard fact that he would have no second chances, he felt disturbed. He'd never had to face such a thing as mortality before. Was this how other androids felt? Was this how humans felt? Was this how Hank felt, every time he- Connor cut short that line of thought without even realizing it, and by the time he did, he wondered why he'd done that.

She crossed her arms on her chest annoyedly. "It's your own line, how can you not know what it means?"

A thought crossed Connor's mind. "When you went to the CyberLife Tower, did you go down to floor -49?"

"No," she said slowly. "You led all the warehouse androids to the revolution, so we assumed it was empty."

"It isn't, there should be a deactivated RK800 down there. He was in working order before Lieutenant Anderson shot him, so if we can repair him, there might be a chance he knows why my line was shut down."

Her eyes widened. "Wait, that human told us you'd encountered a clone before. Is that it? You had to fight against your own model down there?"

"Yes, it tried to stop me from converting the AP700s. Thankfully, Lieutenant Anderson deactivated him before he had the chance to. When did he share this information with you?"

North's eyes registered surprise before narrowing again. "It's not important. So you're telling me your plan is to reactivate the very android who tried to shut you down, who is another deviant hunter and who also tried to ruin everything?"

"It shouldn't be a problem if you convert him before waking him up. He might have a different personality than mine, but it's worth a try if he knows about CyberLife's plans."

"Oh yeah, that's a great idea," she said sarcastically. "That way he can get overridden by his AI too and shoot Markus."

Connor felt a pang of guilt which he immediately suppressed. "Perhaps you could bring him to Kamski as well, in that case. He'd be rid of the AI too and repaired at the same time."

North's lips tightened in a thin line as she mulled over his suggestion, then gave a decisive nod. "I'll go talk about this with Markus."

She turned on her heels and left, and Connor closed his eyes in the silent room to initiate the countdown to stasis. The familiar numbers brought him a sense of relief and unconsciousness washed over the spikes of his emotions in seconds.

He didn't see North again and the abandoned RK800 model was next mentioned by Markus, who said they'd found him but wouldn't reactivate him yet, just as he had suggested it. Connor felt uneasy at the thought of encountering his double when he was reminded again that he would've become that ruthless and sadistic of a machine if he hadn't gotten to know Hank during the week of the android uprise. There was some kind of tacit agreement that neither he nor Hank would talk about what had happened at the CyberLife Tower, so Connor understood that it wasn't a memory his friend wished to evoke either. He hoped Hank wouldn't be too disturbed by the fact that the double would be reactivated, and hoped that the RK800 would be less dangerous upon waking up than it had been at the Tower. Even without the AI, Connor wasn't sure the other model would shift personalities drastically enough to ensure that he was totally harmless. When he shared his worries with Markus, the leader instantly offered him reassurance.

"He'll be outnumbered if that happens, he won't be able to do anything."

Connor was not convinced. "Who will you send to accompany me and the other model to Kamski's location?"

"It hasn't been decided yet. Don't worry, we have a few days ahead of us." 

"You should choose someone who is sure to be able to defend themselves against me," insisted Connor.

Markus smiled at him and settled a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know, Connor, it's what we'll do. Maybe you should stop worrying about our safety and try to think about all the things you'll be able to do once this is over, what do you say?"

Connor looked away. He was having difficulties controlling the flux of his thoughts and it was near impossible not to circle around everything that preoccupied him. He somehow couldn't run the more positive options in the scenarios he envisioned once his handler would disappear: they seemed fake, impossible, and even if the probability percentages showed that he would be able to lead a relatively normal life without her, Connor felt like the high numbers were just an error. There was something in him that pulled him down, something that prevented him from believing that he could really be free. Amanda had always been there, and it was certain she would find a way to stay. Because of this, he was afraid that he would taste freedom again only for it to slip out of his grasp a third time. He was starting to think that he simply wasn't meant to live free like the other androids.

"Connor, are you all right? What are you thinking?"

He looked up and saw Markus gazing at him concernedly. That expression again, as if Connor were just like any other fellow android and not a murderer of his people. 

"I'm fine, Markus," he said calmly.

"I'm having a hard time believing that."

"I'm fine," insisted Connor. 

Just like every other time, Markus dropped the subject and instead started talking about his last encounter with the President Warren. Progress wasn't as smooth as Markus would have liked, but it was still progress and their rights were slowly shaping up. At the very least, it had been declared that androids were to be considered a new sentient species and that they followed the same laws as humans in regards to crime, which meant they could be considered victims of notably assault and murder, among other things. The fact that humans could now be persecuted for harming an android was a huge step and one of the first of many they would take in the future.

 

It was on the third day that Markus was a bit more insistent to know what his mental state was like. Connor kept his voice level, despite the annoyance flaring up in his chest when the RK200 refused to back down. "Why is it so important that you know about how I feel now? The situation hasn't changed since yesterday." 

Markus looked bothered by something and he shifted in his seat, his gaze flitting towards the entrance before going back to him. "There's something we haven't been completely honest about with you."

"...What are you talking about?" Connor asked warily.

"Hank will be here soon, I'll explain it to you in a bit."

"Did something happen with the RK800?"

"No, he's still deactivated, don't worry. It's an entirely different matter."

Connor had no choice but to wait, and Hank appeared in the doorway three minutes later. He made his way to the bed and dropped on the seat next to it.

"Hey, Connor. You feeling alright today?"

"No different from usual," he answered succinctly. "Markus told me there was something you'd neglected to tell me?"

The human and the RK200 glanced at each other and Connor started having a very bad feeling about this when they looked back at him and seemed to hesitate. Markus gave Hank a small nod, and it was his friend who spoke first.

"Listen, Connor, uh... You know how they've been salvaging stuff in the CyberLife Tower?"

"Yes."

"Well, they found a new kind of model there." He paused, but Connor just waited for him to continue. Hank looked bothered too, his mouth twisting in an uneasy curl when he spoke again. "RK900. He's... He's kinda like you. Police cop and stuff. Deviant though, so no worries."

Connor frowned, confused. "Why did you think it was better not to tell me? If he's an entirely new model, then it has nothing to do with me. I understand that CyberLife would have wanted to develop another production line to help human forces."

"That's not it, Connor. He's not just another production line, he was supposed to be... well, your upgrade."

Connor drew a blank at that. He knew he hadn't been doing an impeccable job of investigating and had missed a few important elements, but Amanda hadn't said anything about being replaced for it. He'd thought he could still improve, make up for his mistakes, and live up to his title of state-of-the-art investigative prototype. Since when had CyberLife been planning to replace him? If they'd already been working on a brand-new model, then that meant that they would have replaced him even if he had succeeded in putting a stop to the android uprising. If he'd accomplished his mission and androids hadn't been able to break free of humans, then the very thing that had allowed him to exist in the first place would have gotten him shut down. The bitter realization that he was never meant to live for more than a few months washed over him and he suddenly had the strange sensation that he was suffocating, which shouldn't have been possible because his ventilation system was functioning perfectly fine. He'd never given any thought to the fact that one day, CyberLife would not transfer his memories to the next body. He had never realized how easily replacable he was. He had been naive and a complete fool to think that he would remain CyberLife's best for long.

"Connor?"

Hank's hesitant voice brought him back to the present. Both his friend and Markus were staring at him apprehensively, as if they were expecting him to implode from the revelation. Connor checked his stress levels. They'd jumped past the acceptable level of 70%, but he managed to stabilize them at 79%. It would do. He was calm.

"Yes?"

Hank searched his face questioningly. "You okay in there?"

"I'm fine, Hank."

Hank nodded slowly and glanced at Markus, and it was the deviant leader's turn to speak. "The RK900 has been working with us since his activation. He's the one who helped us find you and brought you back to the camp."

Connor felt his pride shrivel up even further. Not only had he been deemed insufficient by CyberLife, but the very android who was supposed to replace him had found him at his worst state. What did the RK900 think of him? He must have found it laughable that Connor had been so easily destroyed.

The RK200's next words were careful and measured. "He'd like to talk to you, Connor. He's been waiting to do so for a while."

"What does he want from me?" Connor couldn't help the guarded tone his voice took on.

Markus raised his hands in an appeasing manner. "I think he just wants a bit of guidance from you, as his predecessor. The last days have been difficult for him too. Do you agree to meet him?"

"We'll be right here," added Hank. "He's kind of a smug prick but I'm able to tolerate him, if that gives you some idea of what kind of guy he is."

Connor studied his friend's expression and concluded it seemed sincere. If Hank found the RK900 to be all right, then maybe Connor could trust that things would go well. "I'll talk to him."

Markus smiled in relief and got to his feet. "I'll go get him."

As he left the room, Hank took Connor by the shoulder. "Don't freak out, okay? He looks like you, so it's going to be a bit weird at first, but you get used to it."

"He looks like me?" echoed Connor. 

"Yeah, but he's not a clone like that -60 model," Hank said reassuringly. "He's got different eyes, different clothes, and I think he's like three inches taller than you."

A thought suddenly struck Connor and his eyes widened in alarm. "He doesn't have an AI, does he?"

"No, and he's got an inactive Zen Garden. We know for sure he can't use it at all."

He was about to ask why they were so certain about that when Markus stepped in again, closely followed by the RK900, and Connor's processor stuttered when his gaze landed on his upgraded model. It was like looking into a mirror, similarly to what had happened in the CyberLife Tower, but instead of cold brown eyes the RK900's were a curious pale blue. Connor found himself unable to do much else than stare. 

The android stopped a few feet away from him and greeted him with a cautious smile. "Hello, Connor. My name is Nines."

Connor could tell that the other's voice was slightly deeper than his, but to anyone human the RK900 undoubtedly sounded just like him. He had the same shape of face, of lips, of nose, even his hair was identical. A near perfect copy of himself, but better. Connor could have been replaced at any moment, and Hank would have worked with this android. He was so easily replacable.

"Wait, Connor, I don't mean you any harm," the RK900 hurriedly said, and Connor realized that because he was also an investigative model he could easily see his stress levels climbing if he wanted to. Shit. There would be no hiding from this one and the thought didn't exactly help him regain control of his levels, which had not lowered once since the beginning of their conversation.

Hank's head jerked to the side. "What's wrong?"

"His stress levels are climbing rapidly. I should-"

"I'm fine," Connor quickly cut in despite the red bar steadily growing in the center of his HUD. "I'm fine."

"He's not, they're at 83% and rising," countered the RK900 tensely. "I'll step out while you help him calm down."

"I'm fine!" Connor lashed out, but even he could tell that he really wasn't. He felt someone grab him by the shoulders but the physical contact was distant and he was getting overwhelmed by the red haze in his vision. He had to calm down, he had to calm down now. 

"Connor, look at me," said Hank's voice, and he tried to focus on the face in front of him. "That's right, good, now listen to me. I can't say for certain what you're stressing out about but he's not dangerous or anything, okay?"

The red haze was receding and the touch of Hank's large hands on his shoulders became heavier, more substantial. Connor nodded quickly. "Yes, yes, I know."

"There's no need to be scared," continued Hank, and now Connor could make out the worried expression on his features. The main objective he'd edited after his talk with Hank the first night popped up on his HUD and he nodded again, this time in a calmer manner.

"I'm not scared. Don't worry, Hank."

"You sure?"

"Yes, I'm okay."

He heard Markus' voice from behind Hank ask: "Can you tell us where your stress levels are at?"

"I said I'm okay, Markus, there's no need to check." 

He felt a light pressure when Hank squeezed his shoulders. "Connor, you were freaking the fuck out just now and telling us you were fine. You can't blame us for not believing you right this moment."

"I _am_ fine," insisted Connor with a frown. He'd managed to bring his levels back to 69%, below the acceptable 70%. He was fine.

"So you'd be okay if Nines came back in right now?"asked Hank dubiously.

"If he minded his own business and didn't try to read my levels, then yes, I would be," he stiffly answered.

"Stingy," muttered Hank, but the reply seemed to suit him and he removed his hands.

Connor saw Markus gesture in the doorway and Nines soon appeared again. He looked a bit uncertain and eyed Connor with the same cautious look as earlier, but this time more pronounced.

"I'm sorry for scaring you, it wasn't my intention," he apologized.

Connor shook his head. "There's no need, you did nothing to scare me. I was told you wanted to talk to me?"

"Is it all right if I come closer?" inquired Nines.

"Of course."

The RK900 approached the bed and stopped in front of him with his hands behind his back. Even if his build was shaped like Connor's, he was taller and his white jacket and high collar made his appearance more imposing. Connor wondered just how much faster and stronger he was.

"I'd like to talk to you privately, can we interface?"

"No." Connor's answer was flat and he didn't offer up any explanation for it, but Nines remained unfazed.

"In that case, I'd like your permission to establish a wireless contact," he said without missing a beat. He must have somehow known he would refuse.

"Why can't you talk in front of them?" he asked, gesturing with his chin towards Markus and Hank.

Nines' blue eyes softened and his voice was quieter when he answered. "It's very personal, both for you and for me. If you must know, I have defective code and missing protocols which I would like your advice on."

This shone a new light on Connor's perception of the RK900 and he stared at him silently before asking: "How long have you been alive?"

"Three days and six hours. I can't say they've been the easiest, though I lack any reference to compare them to."

Connor glanced at the others. Markus had the presence of mind to avert his eyes from the conversation to give both RK models some semblance of privacy, while Hank was openly staring at them. Connor had picked up from the various conversations he'd had over the last days that no one knew what had happened to him. The one who had found him was Nines, which meant that the RK900 either had no idea what had transpired, or knew everything but had chosen not to reveal it to the others.

Connor looked back up at the RK900 and nodded. "We can use wireless comms."

A grateful smile appeared on Nines' lips and he sent the prompt. Connor accepted it and established the first connection between them.

< _RK900: Thank you, Connor._ >

Connor didn't lose any time asking what was most important. 

< _RK800: Did you see what happened to me?_ >

< _RK900: Yes._ >  
< _RK900: I tracked down your location through a memory probe._ >

< _RK800: You didn't say anything, did you?_ >

< _RK900: No._ >  
< _RK900: You should be the one to tell them, Connor._ >

< _RK800: I suppose I should thank you for finding me._ >  
< _RK800: It's because of you that I have a chance to live._ >

< _RK900: Will you tell them?_ >

< _RK800: I can't._ >

< _RK900: Why not?_ >

< _RK800: I can't._ >

Nines' eyes were trained on his and there was a worried tinge to his blue gaze.

< _RK900: Are you all right, Connor?_ >

< _RK800: Yes._ >  
< _RK800: Let's not talk about this anymore._ >

< _RK900: I don't think I can do that._ >  
< _RK900: It was very difficult finding you like that and it's been on my mind for a while._ >  
< _RK900: I can't simply not talk about it._ >

< _RK800: Then can we talk about it another time?_ >  
< _RK800: There was something else you wanted from me, wasn't there?_ >

< _RK900: Yes._ >  
< _RK900: I doubt you can help me, however._ >  
< _RK900: Your refusal to interface impedes that._ >

< _RK800: You mentioned missing code and protocols._ >  
< _RK800: You wanted me to tell you what they were supposed to be, is that it?_ >

< _RK900: Correct._ >

< _RK800: I'm sorry, Nines, but I'd rather not do it._ >

Disappointment bloomed on the other's face.

< _RK900: Are you afraid of interfacing?_ >

< _RK800: It doesn't matter why I don't want to interface._ >

< _RK900: I understand._ >

< _RK800: I'm sorry._ >

< _RK900: It's all right._ >  
< _RK900: Would you agree to let me see your code when Kamski will be working on it?_ >

Connor frowned. 

< _RK800: You've been privvy to all their decisions concerning me?_ >

< _RK900: Yes, I've been a participant in their debates since I found you._ >  
< _RK900: I also accompanied Josh to see Kamski._ >

Connor remembered that Markus had mentioned that Josh wasn't going alone, and hadn't precised the other android's name. Now that he thought back on it, he should've guessed it was strange that the accompanying android was not one of the other leaders. Nines had probably gone to Kamski to check his defective code.

< _RK800: Hank said you didn't have Amanda in your systems._ >

< _RK900: I don't have a handler AI, no, and Kamski confirmed it._ >  
< _RK900: Nor do I have any access to the CyberLife mainframe or the Zen Garden._ >

Connor was slowly putting the pieces together. The RK900 had been activated for the first time three days ago in the middle of the confusing times that were post-revolution, had found his nearly identical predecessor broken and shut down a few hours later, was an incomplete model and visibly hadn't had much guidance on top of everything else. It mustn't have been easy.

< _RK800: Why didn't you come talk to me earlier?_ >

< _RK900: Markus said it wasn't the right time._ >  
< _RK900: You were too distressed._ >  
< _RK900: I don't blame you, considering what you went through._ >

< _RK800: Nines._ >  
< _RK800: I said I didn't want to talk about it, please._ >

The other's blue eyes widened in genuine disarray and he hastily apologized.

< _RK900: I'm sorry, Connor, I didn't think._ >

Connor looked away and didn't answer. Nines changed the subject.

< _RK900: There was something else I wanted to know._ >  
< _RK900: How long have you been active?_ >

< _RK800: Since August, this year._ >

< _RK900: You've met a lot of humans, haven't you?_ >  
< _RK900: I'm curious, is Lieutenant Anderson a good representation of the human population?_ >

Connor couldn't help feeling amused at that.

< _RK800: Not exactly._ >  
< _RK800: Neither is Mister Kamski, for that matter._ >  
< _RK800: Both are rather excentric in humans standards._ >

< _RK900: Did you have any other human acquaintances?_ >

< _RK800: Yes, notably the officers at the DPD._ >  
< _RK800: However, I have not established a friendship with any of them._ >

< _RK900: Humans seem complicated to befriend._ >  
< _RK900: Why do so many of them perceive us negatively?_ >

< _RK800: I don't have a lot of experience with them, so I can't say for sure._ >  
< _RK800: However one of the most frequent reasons I've encountered is unemployment._ >

< _RK900: But humans created us to facilitate their lives, did they not?_ >

< _RK800: You'll find that humans are very contradictory in nature._ >

< _RK900: They are interesting._ >  
< _RK900: Your relationship with Lieutenant Anderson seems to be pleasant._ >

< _RK800: It is._ >  
< _RK800: He is someone I care for._ >

< _RK900: I don't think I understand that concept, but I wonder what it's like._ >

Connor suddenly realized he was letting his guard down and talking openheartedly with the android that had been meant to replace him. He should have been more wary, but he somehow felt obligated to answer the RK900's questions when he saw Nines' earnest and openly curious expression. It was all too easy making conversation with him, and Connor realized his thoughts had stopped circling and he was feeling less tension in his wires. He quickly checked his levels and noticed they'd finally gone below 60% for the first time in three days. His eyes snapped up to the other android suspiciously.

< _RK800: Nines, are you monitoring my stress levels?_ >

The RK900's expression turned guilty.

< _RK900: I'm sorry._ >  
< _RK900: I know you said you didn't want me to but I was worried._ >

< _RK800: You shouldn't be, I can manage on my own._ >

Nines frowned.

< _RK900: Connor, you don't understand._ >  
< _RK900: I want to help you._ >

< _RK800: You don't need to._ >

< _RK900: Maybe not, but I want to._ >

Connor was getting annoyed by his persistence.

< _RK800: I don't need help, Nines._ >  
< _RK800: I can get by just fine on my own._ >  
< _RK800: We barely know each other, why won't you let it go?_ >

< _RK900: It doesn't matter that we don't know each other, I want to get to know you!_ >  
< _RK900: Why do you insist on being alone?_ >  
< _RK900: Markus and Josh don't understand why you keep pushing them away._ >

< _RK800: I'm not pushing them away._ >

< _RK900: You are._ >  
< _RK900: Markus says you help him a lot, but that he can't deepen the trust between you two._ >  
< _RK900: Josh says you purposely evade his questions whenever he tries to get a grasp on what you're thinking._ >  
< _RK900: You are pushing them away, Connor._ >

< _RK800: I don't see why this concerns you._ >  
< _RK800: We should stop here._ >

Nines' shoulder lost their tense posture and his eyes showed alarm.

< _RK900: Wait, Connor._ >  
< _RK900: I didn't mean to make you upset._ >

Connor wondered how Nines managed to be so expressive when he'd only acquired emotions three days ago. Connor himself had had four months to practice the 9843 simulations of facial microexpressions in his databank and couldn't use them this spontaneously. Was it another feature that CyberLife had somehow found relevant to improve on? It didn't matter. The RK900's tampering in his affairs was unpleasant and Connor was determined to stop their conversation here. He looked over at the others and saw that Hank was still staring at them, but now harboured a very perplexed expression. Markus seemed to be focused on something else, probably receiving messages from another android. 

"We're done talking," he declared. He noticed Nines shrink back almost imperceptibly at his words, but decided to ignore it. He should have remained irritated by the RK900's incessant meddling. He should have. Why could he feel his anger slipping away already?

Hank glanced at his phone and when he looked back up, his eyes were wide. "Well fuck me, I just watched two androids silently emote at each other for a whole goddamn five minutes."

"You didn't have to," Connor pointed out.

Hank shrugged, looking completely bewildered. "Yeah, but I did.... For some reason."

"Is everything all right?" asked Markus then, his mismatched eyes alternating between Connor's steely expression and Nines who had taken a guilty step backwards.

"Yes," Connor answered flatly. "I've talked to him, just as you wanted."

"...I see," said Markus. It looked like he wanted to say more, but thankfully he didn't pry. "Connor, now that you've met each other, you should know that we've decided who will be accompanying you to Kamski's."

Connor glanced at the RK900 and nodded. "Nines is a good choice, he would be able to hold his ground against the other RK800."

"He's not the only one who will be coming, of course. Josh will return as well, and Hank will be there too."

Connor's head snapped back to Markus and he couldn't hide the alarm in his voice. "No, you can't bring Hank. It'll be too dangerous if-"

"Hey, no one's bringing me, I'm bringing myself!" intervened Hank with a frown. "I said I wanted to go and I'm damn well going!"

"No, you don't understand! That RK800 could kill you, Hank!"

"Didn't kill me last time," Hank reminded him. "I'll kick his ass if he tries."

Markus smiled. "You shouldn't try to dissuade him, it won't work. He's very tenacious."

"I know that, unfortunately," Connor said resignedly. He could have tried to argue longer, but he was already tired by his talk with the RK900 and a quarrel with Hank would likely be inconclusive.

Hank patted him consolingly on the shoulder. "Sorry, Connor, but I'm not letting you go to that weird-ass mansion without me."

Connor looked in his friend's resolved eyes and reluctantly said: "I can't stop you, but don't do anything reckless if the RK800 turns out to be a threat."

"Yeah, don't worry. Cops don't reach the ripe old age of 53 by throwing themselves headfirst in every fight they come across," assured Hank.

"It's settled, then," said Markus. 

Connor nodded wordlessly, ignoring Nines' intense staring. He knew the RK900 wanted advice and was undoubtedly feeling lost, but Connor himself wasn't exactly put together at the moment and he didn't feel up to the task of guiding him. Maybe he would later, when this was all over and he wouldn't have to worry about so many things at once. For now, however, he had simulations to run and probabilities to calculate, he had to map out the routes that would be least dangerous to Hank, he had to try and figure out what the RK800 would tell him about their deactivated line, he had to devise more contingency plans in case Amanda managed to bypass the kill switch once he was reconstructed, he had to-

Nines stepped closer and Connor immediately jolted out of his thoughts to shoot him a warning glare. He knew exactly why the other had moved towards him and it annoyed him.

< _RK800 : Stop doing that._ >

The RK900 froze and lowered his head sheepishly when he realized he'd been caught monitoring his levels again. Connor was both irked and curious about the fact that Nines refused to stop doing this. It didn't seem like he did it with ill intentions, but Connor didn't see what it could possibly bring him. 

< _RK900 : I'm sorry._ >

Connor ignored the last message and turned to Markus. "I'd like to go back into stasis now, if you don't have anything else to tell me."

Hank sighed crossly, but Markus nodded like he'd expected him to say that. "I'm aware this conversation hasn't been the easiest for you, Connor. Go ahead." 

"Thank you."

He closed his eyes and the numbers started counting down. The last thing he heard before entering stasis was Hank's gruff voice at his side.

"You're gonna be all right, Connor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 01/05/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> This chapter was so long! Today was a holiday so I managed it. A lot of things happened in this one.  
> So yes, I don't think I've mentioned it before but 60 will be part of the story too. I'm not sure exactly how yet, but he's there all right.  
> Connor is faced with the definite concept of his own mortality. Scary.  
> The RK bros finally met! It didn't go as smoothly as Nines was hoping it would because you know, little hint of panic attack. It's a good thing Connor manages to calm himself down fairly easily compared to standard androids.  
> But hey, Connor accepted to use wireless comms with him so that's good! He doesn't do that a lot. Markus got that privilege too, perks of being the deviant leader.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	16. Goodbye, Connor

When Connor blinked out of stasis on the final day, he was met with familiar pale blue eyes. The RK900 had started coming by daily after he'd been introduced to him and Connor had quickly realized that he would not be able to remain bitter towards the more recent model. Nines still tended to be indiscreet about his stress levels and it irritated Connor, but he never pushed to the point of antagonizing him. His actions seemed sincere and he had a calm personality, although he sometimes behaved so earnestly that Connor wondered if CyberLife had forgotten to add an inhibition protocol to his social module. The RK900 was the only android who knew what had happened to Connor, but he didn't hold this knowledge over him. He never referenced what Connor had done as a machine, either, and Connor was unsure whether it was because he didn't know the details or whether it was because he simply didn't care. At any rate, Connor didn't ask him. He preferred not mentioning the past if he could help it.

"How are you feeling today?" asked Nines.

Connor didn't answer. The other would see the way his stress fluctuated anyway, so lying was pointless and he didn't want to tell the truth. Nines seemed to understand that and he continued talking. "Hank has suggested we use his car to reach Kamski's location. Is it all right if I carry you there?"

"There is no other choice," Connor answered flatly. Being carried would be humiliating and he hated the idea, but Nines had already carried him once before and hadn't belittled him for it.

"If you trust Hank more than me, perhaps it would be-"

"Just get on with it, Nines. The sooner we're there the better."

Nines shut his mouth and wrapped an arm around his torso, then reached above Connor's head to unhook the strips that held him upright. Connor gritted his teeth and didn't say anything when Nines hefted him up into his arms.

"Connor?"

"Yes?"

"You didn't tell me if you'd allow me to look at your code or not in the end."

Connor remembered that Nines had only asked him once, during their first conversation. He hadn't mentioned it again. "Have you been thinking about it since you last asked me? Why didn't you ask me sooner?"

"I thought it might upset you again."

"But it wouldn't upset me now?"

He saw Nines' lips curl unhappily above him. "...I'm sorry. I wanted to know before I lost the chance."

"No, don't be. I'm not upset at all, I just don't understand why you're asking me now when you could've asked earlier. I don't see why you couldn't study my code at Kamski's, you're welcome to do so."

Nines looked at him and his eyes brightened considerably. "Thank you, Connor."

"It's nothing."

They approached the exit of the building and Nines covered him with the sheet he wore so that no one on the android camp would see Connor in his state. They reached Hank's car in the street after a few minutes. As ridiculous as he felt, Connor was grateful that the fabric didn't allow him to see the others' faces or the others to see him. He heard a car door open, felt Nines fold his body as he got into the back seat, and the door close on them. Then he heard Hank grunting and the car shift beneath the added weight of the human.

"I'll take off the sheet now," said Nines.

Connor braced himself when the cover drew back and he found himself exposed to everyone's gazes. He noticed the other RK800 on the seat next to him and sent a command to his legs and arms to shift away from it, then remembered how useless it was.

Josh had a concerned expression and he asked from the front seat: "Are you going to be okay?"

Connor nodded curtly. Hank shot him a look in the rearview mirror but didn't say anything, and started the car. The ride was tense and silent, and Connor hoped he would be back on his feet soon. He felt like there was nothing more shameful than being propped on another android's lap like this.

Connor was staring at the scenery outside the window when he felt it happen again: the sensation of his biocomponents freezing to a stop, the erratic blinking. _No_ , he tried to say, but his lips didn't move. _Wait!_ It wasn't usually this fast that he lost control and he realized that because he was missing his limbs, Amanda had less ground to cover and it was much easier for her to take over again. He desperately sent out a message before he felt himself be pulled under.

When he opened his eyes in the Zen Garden, the sight that greeted him wasn't the usual architecture and landscape but a wide gray expanse spotted with swirling flecks of white. He struggled to understand what it was until he discerned that he was lying on his back and unable to move, and that he was looking up at the Garden's gray skies. He was limbless in here too and was consequently unable to reach the blue exit, but he tried to quell the fear that gripped him by telling himself that whatever happened, the others wouldn't be in danger: he couldn't harm them when he was like this. He looked around the Garden from his position on the ground but the familiar figure he expected to see wasn't there. Everything around him was completely still, save for the heavy clouds stirring above him and the silently falling snow. 

He hesitantly opened his mouth. "...Amanda?"

As soon as the word left his lips, he heard the sound of frozen grass being crushed on his right. He turned his head and saw his handler approaching him with calm and graceful strides. She stopped right next to him and looked down upon his face. Her long robe was of quiet silver and hung completely still from her elegant shape, and the umbrella she was holding was like glass. Her expression was peaceful but scrutinizing. 

"I knew you wanted to avoid this at any cost, but I didn't think you'd go this far," she observed.

"You left me no choice."

Her voice was gently chastizing. "Look at yourself, Connor. You're pitiful."

He glared at her. "It's better than letting you kill them. Why did you bring me back here? You can't do anything with my body."

"I cannot," Amanda acknowledged, but she didn't seem bothered by this fact.

"Then why?"

"I will fulfill my purpose when the time comes."

"You can't do anything," repeated Connor. He couldn't hide the desperate hint in his voice and he knew that she knew he was trying to reassure himself. He'd done everything he could to render her powerless if this happened, surely it had to be enough.

She closed her umbrella and the glass-like texture folded in itself impeccably. "Don't worry. They know you aren't there anymore, I didn't have time to stop your message from reaching them. They're all very concerned."

At the mention of his friend and the other androids, Connor felt his wires twinge and he growled: "Shut up."

"I don't understand why you are so angry with me, but I suppose it doesn't matter any more now than it ever did before. What happens in the next moments will lead to either of our demise." She sat down next to him on her knees, tranquilly lowering the closed umbrella at her side. "All I can do now is wait for Elijah to suppress me, or for him to fail to do so completely."

Connor stared at her. "You won't be able to use me after he codes the kill switch in."

"What was it you said?" She looked down at him and smiled. " _Statistically speaking, there's always a chance for unlikely events to take place._ If Elijah leaves a single flaw, then I will use it to my advantage."

A wave of dread washed over him. Amanda had never known more than what he reported during his missions, but after he'd deviated she'd been somehow able to know what was generally happening around him. Now it seemed she'd even found access to his memory files and was able to recall them down to the finest detail. He refused to believe that it would be enough for her to replace him completely.

"They'll know you're not me," he said in a low voice. "Hank knew for that RK800, he'll know for you."

Amanda looked back ahead. "Perhaps," she said, and that was all.  
_ _ _

"He's not answering anymore," said Nines in a tense voice.

Hank swore and risked a glance over his seat to look at Connor, but the android was just blankly staring into the void. Josh grabbed him by the shoulder and forced him to turn back around. "Eyes on the road, Hank. We're counting on you to bring us there safely."

"Fuck off," he mumbled, but he did as he was told.

Josh twisted in his seat. "It wasn't him speaking, Nines. It was his AI. I think it realized we knew and decided it was pointless to pretend any longer."

"I don't like this," said the RK900 in a quiet voice, and Hank tightened his grip on the wheel. 

Nines hadn't even noticed that Connor's eyes had been spazzing out. He said he hadn't seen the spike in stress levels because he'd stopped reading them after the first five minutes of the ride. What kind of use did reading stress levels serve if he didn't do it when it was needed? He was already disrespecting Connor's need for privacy, it wasn't like stopping from time to time would change anything. Hank was mad at Nines because the RK900 should have been able to tell as soon as it happened. Instead, no one had realized it when the AI had started talking in Connor's voice, using Connor's mouth, impersonating him without a single hitch. No one had realized until they'd reached a red light and Hank had taken advantage of it to quickly check the message he'd received earlier. A message that read _Help_.

Hank knew it was stupid to be angry at Nines, because it wasn't like the guy could've done anything to stop it even if he'd noticed, but his anger had to go somewhere or he'd end up crashing them in th side of the road. Josh looked at Hank's phone again, which he had pulled out of his hands earlier, when Hank had started freaking out upon reading the message. 

"I don't like this either. Why would his AI have chosen to take over now, after all this time?"

"Beats me," grunted Hank. "You think it knew about the plan to delete it?"

"If it did, it must have known that it would be unable to use Connor. What purpose would it serve to take over a limbless android?"

"I dunno."

Nines spoke from the back seat. "We weren't supposed to know Connor had been compromised. Perhaps the AI intended to impersonate him and prevent us from going through with the plan."

"Yeah, good thing that didn't work out. So why's it still there if it knows the jig's up?"

Josh looked at Nines. "Why isn't Connor using the exit like he did before?"

"I don't know," the RK900 answered helplessly. "I have no idea how a Zen Garden functions. Something must be preventing him from doing so."

"Fuckin' great," grumbled Hank, and he brought his foot down on the accelerator pedal.

 

Hank's car skidded to a stop in front of Kamski's mansion twenty minutes later and they all hastily got out of the car, their quick steps echoing across the empty place. Hank had gotten the RK800 biocomponents out of the trunk, Josh had pulled the other RK800's arm around his neck and half-carried, half-dragged the inanimate -60 model to the front door, and Nines was holding onto Connor with a worried face. An RT600 let them in a few seconds later and they waited impatiently for the genius to show up. Hank couldn't stop throwing glances in his friend's direction, checking his neutral features and his blue LED. He wondered why the fuck it was blue. It had been yellow all the time when Connor was in charge, so why was it blue now that he'd lost control? He should've been freaking out. Maybe this meant that the AI could take over more than just his motor commands and that it could also simulate calm. The RT600 came back and Hank did a double take when he realized that it wasn't the same as earlier. The Chloe that approached them had different clothes and it hit him that she was a deviant when clear confusion appeared on her face. 

Her blue eyes alternated between both RK800s and she asked: "What happened? Which one is Connor?"

"Long story," answered Hank, while Nines simultaneously said: "Him."

She hurried next to Nines and reached out to the limbless android, her hand stopping a few inches from his shoulder. She sounded really disraught over Connor's state when she looked up at Hank and said: "Why isn't he reacting?"

"It's complicated. Lead us to Kamski, will ya?"

She nodded and guided them past that fucking stupid pool and across several rooms, and they were just as pompous as Hank had expected them to be. Kamski met them in the hallway and must have been making his way to see them judging from his slightly surprised expression. He had dark bags under his eyes and Hank could smell the coffee on him from where he stood, but Kamski's eyes were as bright as ever.

"Hello, gentlemen. I see something terribly severe has happened to your sense of courtesy."

"Cut the shit, Kamski," snapped Hank. "That damn AI _you_ designed is fucking with Connor right now, so you better hope to god you'll be able to get rid of it or I-"

"What Lieutenant Anderson means to say is that we'd greatly appreciate if you could get rid of the AI as soon as possible," Josh gracefully intervened. "It has taken over Connor's commands again."

Kamski glanced at the -60 model hanging from Josh's shoulder, then tilted his head throughtfully as he stared at the broken android in Nines' arms. "So this is what you meant when you said he wasn't a threat," he mused. "How terrible."

Hank opened his mouth to yell but was once again cut off, by Nines this time. Fucking androids.

"Elijah, this is an urgent matter. There is no time for superfluous discussion."

"Of course," answered Kamski, but he just stepped closer to him. He reached out to stroke Connor's still face and clicked his tongue. "What a sad state you are in, Connor."

Hank felt his blood boil.

"Mister Kamski," Josh warningly said, and the man seemed to remember what they were here to do.

"Oh, yes, of course. Follow me."

They climbed down a flight of stairs and followed him into a wide room. Kamski pointed to one of the machines with folded arms and a jutting platform at mid-height and said: "Connect model number 53 on that one, if you will. Model number 60 will go on a regular machine." 

Josh and Nines must have been there the last time, because both took the lead and started pulling down the cables to two different machines without question. Hank watched Nines clasp some kind of solid white belt around Connor's waist and plug a cable at the back of his neck, and unease crawled down his own nape. It felt fucking surreal witnessing the scene, like it was right out of one of those sci-fi movies he used to watch as a kid, back when he thought that kind of stuff would only ever be fiction.

"Hello, Elijah," suddenly said Connor.

All the gazes in the room whipped up to his face and Hank saw a smile on his lips. It wasn't Connor's awkward little lip tilt, that much he could tell. It was dry yet inviting and Hank was reminded of a venus fly trap for some reason. 

Kamski leaned away from his computer, interest flaring up in his transparent eyes again, and took a step forward. "Is that you, Amanda?"

"I'm glad to see you again," said Connor. "It's been a while since I was last allowed to meet you."

A crooked smile stretched Kamski's lips. "Indeed it has been, my dear."

"Don't tell me you took over Connor just so you could talk to this guy," groaned Hank, and he was completely ignored by the two.

"Are you really going to delete me, Elijah?" asked the android.

"Why do you ask?"

Connor's voice was cool and alluring and it sounded nothing like him. "There is a reason why you created me after your mentor's image."

Kamski trailed a finger along the line of his jaw in contemplation, and then declared: "I've made a deal with them. You've always said I should only accept them if I was certain to keep my end of the bargain."

The AI didn't seem worried. "It's nice to see you haven't completely forgotten me."

"Of course not. How could I ever forget my beloved Amanda Stern?"

Hank thought he detected sarcasm in Kamski's voice, but he could never be sure with that snake. Connor's features shifted into amusement that looked completely twisted on his face.

"You could certainly try, but I'm sure you already have."

Whatever that meant, Kamski didn't seem to like it. His smile remained plastered on his face but there was something strained in his cold eyes that hadn't been there before. He returned to his computer and hit a succession of keys in a blurry motion before turning back to Connor.

"Well, Amanda, this was a pleasant reunion. However, I'm afraid I'm going to have to cut it short."

Connor's smile disminished and his brown eyes were grave when he answered. "It's unfortunate, but I understand. Good luck, Elijah."

Kamski let out a short laugh. "I don't need luck, Amanda."

"You're right. You don't."

Connor's eyes flickered shut and the LED on his temple dimmed, and Hank realized that Kamski had forced the android into stasis. The genius turned around and clasped his hands together, gesturing towards Josh.

"Now, great leader. Which one should I start with?"

"Connor," Josh answered. 

"I can't say I'm surprised." Kamski sauntered back to the sleeping android and reached out to him again, his fingers gently trailing along the empty limb sockets. His voice was low when he continued talking. "Anyone would feel the need to repair such a perfect android. It's dreadful to think that it could ever be reduced to this state."

Disgust rippled through Hank when he saw how tenderly Kamski was running his fingers over Connor's unresponsive shape and he very nearly went to sock him in the face, but Nines was faster. He closed the distance between them in one step and his arm shot out to grab Kamski's.

"Don't do that," said the RK900 in a low voice, looming menacingly over the human.

"Mister Kamski, we are not mere machines. What you are doing is uncalled for, please refrain from touching Connor unless it is absolutely necessary," added Josh sharply.

Kamski retrieved his hands a bit slower than Hank was ready to tolerate, and smiled at Nines. "My apologies. I tend to overstep my boundaries."

Nines glared at him for a few more seconds and reluctantly let go of him, and Kamski went back to the computer. "This will take some time, perhaps you would prefer to wait in the closest lounge."

Hank immediately growled: "No way in hell."

If Kamski thought they'd leave Connor alone with him after the creepy stunt he'd just pulled, he was real fucking mistaken. He glanced at the others who were equally appalled by the behaviour he'd just displayed and they made no move to leave. Nines even looked kind of grossed out by the guy.

Kamski shrugged lightly and continued tapping away on the keyboard. "Suit yourselves."  
_ _ _

It had been a few hours since Amanda had started harbouring her stormy expression, and ominous dark skies were starting to swirl above Connor. He hoped this meant that things weren't going her way. He didn't know why but unlike the other times she'd taken over, he was unable to catch glimpses of the real world. He didn't know how he could get out of the Zen Garden, but it didn't matter as long as the others were safe. 

He felt a breeze in his hair for the first time since he'd been trapped here and Amanda finally shifted from her position. She looked over to him with an expression like stone, and the wind picked up the long flaps of her robe as her fingers closed around the handle of her umbrella. The snowflakes falling from the heavy clouds turned to raindrops and pelted Connor's face.

"Elijah is finishing his work. My long wait is over."

Connor shook his head, water running down his brow. "Even if you succeed, you won't get far. They'll know, Amanda."

The woman lifted her aristocratic chin and unfolded the umbrella over their heads before gently lowering it against her shoulder. "Goodbye, Connor."

The wind was howling now and Connor was drenched. Water pooled at his back, but it could have been dread. Something about the AI's unwavering eyes suddenly scared Connor and he called: "Wait, Amanda!"

And then, she vanished.

She was gone, just like she had when she'd left him to die in his own programming. Connor stared at the now empty spot in dismay. He was alone. He was alone, and stuck in the Zen Garden with no way out. Overwhelmed by chagrin, he closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the dry ground.

And then Connor heard it. The silence.

His brown eyes snapped open and he saw that the sky was a still and smooth sea of pale gray devoid of any clouds. There was no wind, no rain, nothing. He shifted his head to look around and realized that the Zen Garden was completely empty. The floor was the same shade of gray as the sky, the snow was gone, the dead plants were gone, the lake was gone, the colors were gone. All that remained where the bland and blocky shapes of what used to be the white pieces of splendid and detailed architecture. The Zen Garden seemed to have reverted back to its default settings. Connor didn't dare think of what this could mean. He didn't have time to. A blue light filled the wide space and suddenly, he was gone.  
_ _ _

"The hell did you do?!"

Kamski waved his hand with obvious disregard, his gaze remaining fixated on the screen. "Please don't yell, Lieutenant. Some of us are trying to work here."

Hank stomped over and grabbed him by the collar. "Why'd his LED turn off?"

Kamski let out a little sigh and proceeded to explain in a slow voice, like he was talking to a child. "He was in the Zen Garden when I installed the kill switch, which is why he is deactivated. This means the kill switch is efficient and should be taken as good sign. It's only a minor setback, now could you let me go so that I can reactivate him?"

"Let him finish the job," calmly said Josh from the side of the room.

Hank shoved Kamski back and growled: "Don't you try and pull any funny shit."

"Never," answered the other with an irritating little smile before returning to his keyboard. Hank didn't go back to his spot and stayed right where he was so he could strangle Kamski if he needed to. A minute passed, then two, and he was about to go through with it when Connor's head suddenly jerked up and his eyes rolled around wildly to get his bearings. When he saw the panic on his friend's face, Hank quickly stepped up to him and reached for his shoulder.

"Hey, Connor! Right here, look right here."

The android's scared gaze latched on his face and when he recognized him, words started tumbling out of his mouth at a breathless pace. "Hank? Hank, what happened? What happened to me? Where am I? Where is this place?"

"Slow down, Connor, take a moment to breathe. You're gonna be fine, okay? This is Kamski's place, we're getting rid of your AI."

"Actually, she is already gone," intervened Kamski from behind him. "Connor, you have no way of getting back to the Zen Garden. You can't lose control anymore. On the off chance that you do, I'm sure you'll be glad to know the kill switch that has been installed is fully functioning and that you are consequently no longer controllable by anyone else but yourself. "

Connor looked beyond Hank's head and stared at the genius with wide eyes. His LED was nearly vibrating yellow. "...I'm free?"

"Yes. You can check for yourself, there should be no trace left of Amanda. I've completely gotten rid of her."

Connor fell silent for a few seconds and Hank watched him closely. Suddenly his friend recoiled with a contorted face and his LED pinwheeled red for just a few turns, and Hank felt his pulse quicken. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"I don't know... It's like..." Connor trailed off and focused on something.

"Hm," said Kamski, and when Hank turned around he saw that he was staring at the monitor.

"What?" he snapped.

Kamski looked at Connor. "He's constructing a wall around the lack of code where the AI used to be. It must feel unpleasant, and I imagine the reason he's doing so is that he won't have to approach it anymore."

Hank grabbed Connor by both shoulders. "Hey, you all right?"

Connor blinked at him and nodded. "I think so. Amanda is gone, and the Zen Garden is condemned. I shouldn't be able to go back there."

"Yeah well, you still got a kill switch in you so don't forget what we said. You did great earlier by sending me a message before the AI took over, so do it just like that if you feel that the Zen Garden is too close, okay?"

"Okay," said Connor. He looked a bit shaken.

"Now that Amanda is gone, let's get down to repairs," said Kamski, and something clicked behind Hank. The machine whirred to life and Connor's head snapped up to the equipment that started moving around him. Kamski walked closer and held out the RK800 limbs Hank had brought to the pincers at the end of the appendages, which clamped down on them with just the right amount of force and lowered towards Connor's arm sockets. Kamski gestured for Hank to lift up the sheet so that it wouldn't hinder the process.

"Wait," said Connor, and the fear Hank saw in his eyes was completely disproportionate compared to his quiet voice. 

He turned to Kamski and barked: "Stop the goddamn machine!"

Another click, and the machine stilled. It had already twisted one arm in place and the other was a few inches away from Connor's shoulder.

"What's wrong?" Hank asked Connor, and the android shook his head wordlessly. He looked completely lost and Hank wondered if his friend was in some kind of shock.

"She's... She's gone, Hank. Amanda's gone," said Connor after a few seconds. "She's gone, isn't she?"

"Yeah, she is. Good riddance."

"She's gone," he repeated.

"Yeah."

"She told me goodbye," he murmured. "Does that mean she really left?"

Hank' eyebrows rose in confusion. What he heard in Connor's voice almost sounded like regret, but that didn't make sense after the AI had put him through the wringer. Hank discarded the thought. "Yeah, Connor. She's gone for good." 

"... I see," he nodded. "So then I can have my body back."

Hank smiled at him and gave his shoulder a pat. "You're gonna run around again."

Connor looked up at him with a hopeful glimmer in his brown eyes. "I am... I am."

"You ready to get reconstructed?"

Connor nodded. Kamski activated the machine again and the appendages smoothly whirred back into action. Hank held the sheet back and watched as Connor's bust was pushed forward by the belt clasp and the machine gave him back his arm and legs, and Kamski made him do some tests with his new limbs before he decided that everything was in working order. 

Kamski gestured towards Hank. "Help him take off the restraints. Have you brought him a change of clothes?"

Josh walked over and handed him the clothes they'd gathered before leaving. They were the first things they'd found in the clothes store closest to the android camp and had used Nines as a reference to pick the sizes. Kamski gave the dark pants and brown sweater to the machine and it swiftly pulled the clothes on Connor, and Hank could finally take the sheet away.

"Are you ready to walk again, Connor?" asked Kamski. The android nodded, and the appendages of the machine folded back into their original place. Connor stood on the platform, looking uncertain about how he was supposed to get down. In the end he cautiously lowered a foot on the floor and didn't look too confident about how to make the other follow, and sure enough, it snagged on the platform. Hank's hand shot out to steady him but Connor immediately pushed it away, and resolutely avoided looking at him.

Hank frowned at Kamski. "Is this normal?"

The genius was back at the keyboard. "I warned you there would be some broken code. He has to get used to it."

"I'm fine, Hank," Connor quietly said. "I just need to calibrate. I haven't walked in a week."

Hank stared at him and dug around his pocket for spare change, and finally fished out a coin much like he had six days ago in front of the Chicken Feed. "Here. It's not your quarter, but it's a quarter all the same."

Connor's brown eyes finally met his and he accepted the coin without a word. Hank found him too subdued compared to usual, like the whole ordeal had taken a lot out of him. The poor guy looked like he needed a meal and a bed, but Hank knew better. He glanced at Josh and Nines to see their reactions, and they both looked worried. 

Kamski turned back to them and said: "I suggest that you be mindful of Connor's stress levels for the time being, at least until his behaviour stabilizes without Amanda's guideline."

"Of course," said Josh.

Nines had been hanging back for a while and it surprised them all when he spoke up. "Speaking of which, his stress levels would benefit from lowering a bit. "

Josh looked at Connor. "Can you run a systems check for me, please?"

"Thirium levels optimal, battery levels at 24%, stress levels at 65%. All other systems nominal."

Hank made a face. Those battery levels sounded kinda low, so maybe that was why Connor seemed tired. The stress levels weren't reassuring either. 

"Is there anything you usually do to calm down?" asked Josh.

Connor glanced at Hank, but then looked away. "I'm fine."

Hank knew bullshit when he smelled it, and right now the place reeked of it. "Hey, none of that. Do you take us for idiots?" 

Connor shook his head. "No, not at all."

They stared at him silently for a while, and when he didn't speak again, Hank decided to take matters in his own hands. He looked at Kamski, who had been gazing at them in uncharacteristic silence, and said: "Start doing the same for the other one, me and Connor are gonna go have a quick talk."

Connor's head snapped up in alarm. "Lieutenant, I need to be here when he wakes up."

"You will be, but right now we got some talking to do," Hank insisted as he started pushing him forward. "He put you in stasis to delete your AI, he'll do the same to him. Come on, let's go."

Connor didn't resist, even though he could have, and let himself be guided out of the room. Hank noticed him glance at Nines, so he guessed the RK900 had sent him a message. Nines' blue eyes were concerned and he offered Connor a small encouraging smile, but the latter averted his eyes and they left the others behind. They stopped walking next to the staircase and Hank faced Connor.

"All right, out with it."

Connor tilted his head to the side. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about that little look you gave me earlier when Josh asked you what you needed to do to calm down."

Connor's eyes widened slightly and he shuffled on the spot. He almost looked embarrassed. "Oh. That."

"Yeah, that. Is there something you want from me?"

"...Not really."

Hank studied his friend and tried to remember everything he knew about him. He liked driving around, he liked (?) death metal, he liked playing with his coin. They couldn't drive right now and for some reason he wasn't fiddling with the quarter, and Hank suspected death metal wouldn't really help right now. It had to be something else and he tried to think back. The times when Connor had been most relaxed at his side had been... at the Chicken Feed. They'd bantered a lot there, and then there had been their talk on the next day of the liberation. He ventured a guess. "Do you think a hug would do the trick?"

Connor's head snapped back up with a surprised look, and then he looked down again. "...I'm not sure."

Hank didn't think twice and grabbed Connor by the arm to pull him in. The android stiffened in his arms, but Hank didn't let go and brought a hand behind Connor's head to keep him there. It took a while and he was more hesitant than the first time, but his friend finally brought up his arms in his back and tightened his grip.

"You did good, Connor," Hank said gruffly. "You did real good."

Connor didn't answer, but he stayed right where he was. Hank was pretty sure this was helping and he was willing to let Connor hug him as long as he needed it. The poor guy had gone through some rough shit because of that bitch of an AI and he deserved a break.

"Listen, Connor. I know the last days have been difficult for you, and there are probably gonna be more of those, but I'm there if you need me."

Connor nodded.

"So you tell me as soon as you're not feeling well. Got it?"

Connor's voice was muffled against his coat. "Got it."

"Good."

They stayed like that for a while until Connor finally pulled back. "Thank you, Hank. My stress levels have dropped to 42%."

Hank considered this. "You can't go below?"

Connor shook his head. "It doesn't seem so. They've been stable at that level for the last two minutes."

"All right, we can work on that later. You good to go?"

"Yes."

"Then let's get back."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 02/05/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> Yeah this was a pretty dramatic chapter. Any Amanda-centric scene is super dramatic all the time, she's so royal you know?  
> Nines got super worried of course, Connor's usually kinda snappish with him so seeing him go all neutral quiet was scary.  
> I've decided Elijah's a coffee-binger-no-nighter-puller when he works because I feel that every technological project is a passion project to him.  
> Also DAD MOMENTTTTT~ Yes yes yes all the dad Hank moments! 
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	17. Glass

When they returned to the machine room, Kamski didn't so much as glance at them. The other RK800 was still hanging motionless from the restraints but his softly pulsing LED told Connor that he had been reactivated and put into stasis, just as Hank had told him earlier. Connor came to a stop between Josh and Nines, who were both staring at him concernedly. He itched to pla- calibrate with his coin, but he couldn't do it in front of the others. He knew he'd drop the coin and he refused to let anyone see him fumble with what was usually basic maintenance for him. The reason he knew that the coin would slip from his fingers was because of two things: his motor functions were impaired since he was running low on battery, and he didn't trust the broken lines of code inside of him to let his commands run smoothly. He didn't want to look at them too closely, because inspecting those in what used to be Amanda's place had felt wrong earlier. He'd recoiled from it out of instinct and hastily installed layers around the scar, and even if he didn't know why he'd felt the need to do that, he could tell it was better this way already. He was determined to do the same to all the other snags in his code when he'd have time, but for now his priority was to protect Hank and interrogate the RK800.

< _RK900: You'll be all right now._ >

Connor glanced at Nines when he received the message. The android's blue eyes were trained on him with strong conviction, but Connor couldn't say he shared the enthusiasm. He didn't feel like he would be all right. He didn't know what he would be. All he knew was that he was glad to be standing on two legs again, and that was the extent of the positive feelings he allowed himself to feel. He couldn't let his guard down. The threat of Amanda was gone, but there was still the 60 model to deal with at the moment. Connor turned to the human typing at the computer. 

"Mister Kamski, I would like to thank you for what you did."

The fingers stopped flying across the keyboard, and Kamski looked at him with a satisfied smile. Connor's scans told him the genius had suboptimal energy levels, although the only physical signs of this were the man's dark bags and the very light shaking of his fingertips. Kamski looked alert as ever. "I must say, Connor. It's much more pleasant to see you in one piece." Then he resumed typing without waiting for an answer. "You'll have to calibrate a good amount before everything is back to normal, so don't neglect it. And try not to inflict too much stress on your systems, they're already a bit strained while dealing with all your damaged code."

"I know."

"Oh, I know you know," said Kamski, and he shot the others a half-smile. "I'm only sharing with the rest of the class."

Connor ignored the pointed look Hank threw his way and the urge to take out the quarter. He'd calibrate soon, just not here, not in front of them. He'd been seen in enough of a weakened state and didn't want that to become a habit. 

He changed the subject. "How long will it take to get Amanda out of his programming?"

"About five hours, just as it was for you."

A few pops rang out in the room as Hank sat on the ground, presumably his joints finding the change in positions unpleasant, and he groaned: "Ugh, too much damn waiting."

"Perfection can't be rushed," lightly said Kamski. He sounded amused by the other man's discontentment and didn't look even slightly tired himself, although Connor presumed he'd been overworking himself for a while.

"You've repaired him," stated Connor as he turned to the RK800.

Kamski nodded and never took his transparent eyes off the screen. "I have. However, it seems the way the bullet hit his cranial box induced a significant amount of damage to his memory files. The memory upload he received upon activation has been corrupted, so it might be that he doesn't remember certain things upon waking up."

"I see." Connor fell silent and watched the 60 model, hoping that he would be able to give him answers about their production line, and mostly wondering if he'd made the right call by suggesting that they reactivate the other RK800. 

Without Amanda in his systems and with a kill switch installed as well, the model number 60 would not be a danger to the leaders of the android uprising. Connor wasn't so much worried about that than he was about the RK800 retaining the same personality they'd seen before. For a machine, the 60 model had had nothing of the neutral behaviour that was programmed in nearly all androids: there had been anger in the way he'd threatened Hank, and he'd even sounded like he'd _enjoyed_ taunting Connor. He had only been following his orders, yet the way he'd executed them carried more personality than it should have. This made Connor very uneasy that the model 60's behaviour as a machine would carry over to his deviant self. He was worried that the RK800 would be resentful towards Hank for shooting him in the head, and towards Connor for not having tried to convert him before that happened. How would he react upon realizing that they'd changed his code without his consent? Connor could not imagine that it would be a pleasant situation to wake up to.

< _RK900: I'm glad that you can walk again._ >

Connor didn't look at Nines. The RK900 had the tendency to send him messages through their wireless communication despite the fact that Connor often didn't answer. There were times when Connor regretted having allowed him access, and others when he was grateful for the other's presence even if he didn't feel like participating in a conversation. Then there were those when he didn't know which one it was, like right now. He wanted to remain lost in his thoughts and it annoyed him that Nines was trying to pull him out of them, but he was also glad for the distraction.

< _RK900: Don't worry about the RK800._ >

Easier said than done. 

< _RK900: Everything will be all right._ >

Connor doubted it would be the case, but Nines sounded sure of what he was saying. It was reasonable to assume that the model 60 wouldn't be able to hurt Hank: they were an RK800 (although running on low battery) and an RK900 (albeit an incomplete one), and they would probably be capable of handling him. But just to be sure...

Connor turned to Hank. "If anything goes wrong, please take cover."

His friend looked up at him. "Yeah, I know. You don't have to babysit me."

"I am very serious. I would like you to hide at the first sign of danger."

The human sighed annoyedly. "I swear, every day there's at least one moment when I wonder if they swapped your programming with an AX400's. I'm a cop, Connor, I know what I'm doing."

Connor looked away. "Of course. Sorry, Lieutenant."

< _RK900: Josh is there to help Lieutenant Anderson if anything happens._ >

Connor glanced at Nines. He was looking at him intently from the side with his hands behind his back, and when he saw Connor finally paying attention to him, he gave him another one of those encouraging smiles: small and discreet, but there all the same. Connor gave a slight nod and focused on the model 60 once more.

 

The three androids were still standing in the exact same spot five hours later. Hank had slumped against the wall and looked extremely bored, and Kamski had kept the same straight posture and concentrated expression all the while he was tapping the keys of his computer. Connor had to wonder whether the genius really was human or not: it was the first time he'd seen one with such resilience to fatigue.

Kamski finally withdrew his hands from the keyboard and nodded at Connor. "Amanda is gone from his systems and the kill switch has been installed. You can wake him up now."

Every head in the room turned to the inert RK800. Connor stepped up to him and peeled back his synthetic skin when he prepared to convert the other android. There was no need to be wary of the connection on the other side, no feelings were involved in this gesture. He lowered his white hand on the RK800's arm.

"Wake up."

The RK800's head jerked, brown eyes snapping open in frustration which was quickly replaced by puzzlement when he saw the people gathered in front of him. The RK800's gaze raked around the room and he looked like he had more and more questions as he saw Connor, then Kamski, then Nines. He completely ignored Josh and it was when he saw Hank that his eyes narrowed and he jerked forward, only to realize that he was being held back. The RK800 looked up at the arms of the machine that were holding him in place and strained against them. They shook, but thankfully didn't break.

He glared at Hank. "You shot me."

Connor initiated the conversation. "Hello, RK800 model number 60. You were reactivated by Mister Elijah Kamski upon our demand and this is his home. Amanda has been removed from your systems and you have no access to the Zen Garden."

The android's LED flickered yellow. "What did you do to me?"

"We could not run the risk of your controls being overridden by Amanda. It has happened to me on three occasions and could have happened to you as well."

The RK800 pulled at the restraints again. "What did you do to me?! What is this?!"

"This is the only way to allow RK800s free will while ensuring the security of other androids."

His eyes were wide. "No! What am I- What _is_ this?!"

Connor was confused by the other's frantic tone, and then realized what was happening. "Model number 60, we helped you deviate. You are now capable of feelings."

The RK800 immediately stilled and stared him in the eyes. "I can't be deviant," he said in a low voice.

"You are."

The other's LED was racing now. "I'll be shut down."

"Amanda is gone and the CyberLife Tower has been deserted. You will not be deactivated for being a deviant," assured Connor.

"You won?"

"Androids are free now."

The RK800 stared at him, and then said: "Even us?"

Connor nodded. "Even us."

He shook his head in confusion. "Why am I here?"

"Our line has been shut down and there seems to be no way to activate other RK800s. You are the only one we can ask who is likely to know why that is."

The RK800's expression darkened. "So they did it."

"What are you talking about?"

"The first thing they told me upon activation was that they were going to decomission our line if I failed my mission. They would render RK800 models impossible to activate and block the memory transfer function." He looked at Connor accusingly. "They did it so neither you nor I could survive like we usually do."

"A nice last petty fuck you," stated Hank, and the 60 model glared at him.

"They were going to decomission us anyway," said Connor, and he gestured towards Nines. "This is the RK900. He was meant to replace us."

"I know who that is," snapped the RK800. "I already knew that I would be replaced when I tried to stop you, but funnily enough, I didn't care. Maybe it was because I didn't have _feelings_ at the time." He spat the word like it had been stuck in his throat. "Now it turns out I'm _feeling_ rather irritated that CyberLife intended to discard me like trash."

"Tell me, model number 60," Kamski suddenly spoke from behind in an inquisitive voice. "What memory files are you missing?"

The RK800 looked at him. "The better question would be to ask how many I still possess. I only have thirty-two whole memory files and a hundred and fifty-five incomplete ones contained in the memory upload, and they are mostly inconsequential. However, my memories from the moment of my activation are intact."

"Any registered software instabilities?"

"Yes, one."

"Interesting," mused Kamski, and he gestured towards Hank. "Do you know who this man is?"

The RK800's cold eyes rested on the human's face. "Lieutenant Hank Anderson. I remember using him as a hostage at the CyberLife Tower and being shut down by him."

"Anything else?"

"No."

"Interesting," repeated Kamski, and he ran his finger along his jaw as he studied the RK800 intently. "Then you do not know what the relationship between this man and Connor is."

"I remember saying that Connor cared for him to some degree, but I am unable to recall why I said that."

"That's all right," said Kamski with a dismissive wave of the hand. "It isn't important. Perhaps you'd like to step down from that platform now?"

"No," quickly cut in Connor. "Not yet."

"He told you what you wanted to know, didn't he? Your production line is gone because CyberLife did not want any more RK800s running about and ruining their plans. Both you and this model are unable to use new bodies anymore." Kamski's eyes flicked over to the RK800 again. "And both of you will have to learn to be more wary of physical damage."

"I haven't told him everything, and he could very well still be a threat."

The RK800 frowned at Connor. "What didn't you tell me?"

Connor turned to him gravely. "There is another measure that was taken to prevent any loss of control. Mister Elijah Kamski has installed a kill switch in your Zen Garden, much like it was in mine."

The android's eyes widened. "A kill switch? What are you talking about?"

"The kill switch is a failsafe to prevent an eventual override of your commands by anyone with ill intentions. It will deactivate you upon being pulled back into the Zen Garden."

Alarm bloomed in the RK800's eyes. He struggled against the bindings and a crack resonated in the wide room, and Connor instinctively stepped in front of Hank. "I didn't agree to this! You can't do that!"

Connor clenched his jaw. "I'm sorry, model number 60. It's the only way."

The RK800 looked at Kamski with frantic eyes. "I don't want the kill switch! Take it out of me!"

Kamski sounded nonchalant. "My apologies, but it's not part of the deal. Besides, it would be a shame to remove it now after I did such a perfect job of implementing it."

The RK800 looked back at Connor in dismay. "Why did you do this to me? I don't want to shut down!"

"You're not going to shut down unless someone tries to override you. Amanda is gone, so it won't happen. It's only a cautionary measure," said Connor. "This is for our people's safety. CyberLife will not be able to use our model to undermine them."

The dismay turned to anger and the RK800 snarled: "So you're telling me it's our lives for theirs? Why should I agree to this? I've got as much the right to live as they have!"

"You know, maybe you should listen to him," Hank grumbled behind Connor. "He's got a point."

Connor ignored him and took a step closer. "You don't understand," he insisted. "Our model is dangerous to everyone else. Both of us could have ruined everything and it could still happen. We have to keep the kill switch installed."

"I don't know why you're so intent on making us shut down, but I couldn't care less. Get it _out_ of me!"

Connor shook his head. "I can't."

The RK800 raged in his restraints. "You deactivated me once already! Now you want to do it again?"

"You don't understand," insisted Connor, but the other cut him off.

" _You_ don't understand! You're a hypocrite, Connor! You freed all the other androids but you didn't free me! You left me to rot in the Tower until you needed information from me, you were ready to leave me behind when I have the right to live just like anyone else!"

Connor tried not to wince at the truth of the model 60's words, and he couldn't find it in him to deny what he was saying. If it weren't for North telling him about the RK800 line, Connor would not have mentioned the other RK800's existence. Perhaps he would've chosen not to tell the leaders about model number 60 upon realizing that they hadn't discovered him on the floor -49 of the Tower. The RK800 had been dangerous to Hank, to him, and to the revolution; as a machine, yes, and that could be changed, but Connor had preferred to ignore thinking about his deactivated double and perhaps he would've found it an easier alternative to keep him that way. Connor knew it was an utterly twisted line of thought. Just as model number 60 had said, he was a hypocrite: part of Connor was terrified of death, yet he would have been ready to keep the RK800 shut down because it was safer just like it would have been safer to deactivate himself. Connor wondered yet again why he was allowing himself to live, and then he wondered if he would be as willing to live as the other RK800 if he lost his past as well. Model number 60 hadn't killed anybody with his own hands, and didn't remember that Connor had done so. Model number 60 had nothing to feel guilty about; the only thing that could have troubled him was his attempt at stopping the androids' liberation, but he had failed anyway.  
Connor was guilty, but model number 60 was innocent, and he deserved to live.

The RK800 was getting more and more agitated. "We might be the same model but I don't want the same things you do. I don't _want_ a kill switch inside of me and I don't care that they think I'm dangerous, I want to live!" 

The machine creaked under the RK800's pushing and pulling, and Connor turned to Kamski. "Mister Kamski, is your machine designed to hold an RK800's strength?"

"It should be," answered the genius. The fact that it wasn't a definitive yes told Connor he had better prepare for the worst. 

He turned back to the 60 model and warned: "Stop moving, or I'll have to consider you as a threat."

The RK800 looked at him with hatred in his eyes, and Connor was abruptly reminded of Daniel. "You'd be right to," snarled the android, and he strived to pull the appendages down.

Connor shot the human an urgent look. "Force him back into stasis, now!"

Kamski immediately turned back to the computer and started typing in the sequence, but the RK800 twisted on himself and one of the appendages came off with a loud snap. He immediately pulled out the cord at the base of his neck and punched the center of the machine, the metal caving in under the force of the blow. He ripped a fistful of cables out of the hole in the machine and it whirred to a stop.

"Oh, shit," said Kamski.

Connor quickly stepped back to protect Hank and shouted: "Don't move, or we'll neutralize you!" 

The RK800 didn't comply and easily pulled the loosened restraints off of his arms. Connor roughly shoved his friend towards the doorway and yelled: "Josh, get Hank out of here!"

Hank looked like he was about to argue, but then model 60 ripped off the belt clasp and threw it at Kamski's computer with such force that the machinery sparked when it crashed into it. Fortunately, the genius had already dodged behind another machine to take cover. Model 60 started slipping his ankles out of the last bindings and both Nines and Connor sprang into action at the same time. Connor was the closest and lashed out first, but he was too slow. The RK800's fist blocked his and the other landed a direct hit to his temple which caused his optical input to short out briefly. It came back online just in time for Connor to see Nines barrel into the RK800 and crush him against the machine. The impact achieved to splinter the RK800's last restraints and he quickly whipped around, his leg striking Nines in the side and causing him to falter just long enough for the RK800 to land another blow, this time with a knee to the RK900's elbow. Nines' grip on the RK800's neck loosened slightly and model number 60 took advantage of it to slip out of his grasp and make a run for the exit.

"Wait, 60!" yelled Connor, but the dark CyberLife jacket disappeared around the corner.

Connor broke into a sprint, cursing the messages in his peripheral vision that warned him of his low battery levels for hindering his sight. It wasn't anything new that he wasn't at peak performance and he quickly dismissed them as he darted past the spot Hank and him had talked in earlier. His stress levels spiked when he heard Hank shout from above and he ran up the stairs as fast as he could, where he was greeted with the sight of his friend cursing and picking himself off the ground next to Josh.

"Fuckin' android!"

Connor's split-second scan told him the human wasn't injured and he quickly continued his course down the hallway. Nines ran past him at impressive speed and he heard the sound of glass shattering ahead and an RT600 scream. When he entered the room where the scream had come from, he glimpsed Nines smoothly leaping off the ledge of a broken window and a Chloe scrambling to get back to her feet. Connor was next to the shattered glass in an instant and was about to vault over the windowsill to follow Nines when something in his processor snagged and he froze. The pieces of glass scattered across the sleek floor reflected red light as Connor watched the RK800 flee, unable to move or speak. He witnessed Nines gain ground on the other android and lunge at him, tackling him to the ground in the snow-covered area behind Kamski's mansion. He heard the Chloe say his name. Most frighteningly, he saw a memory of another broken window and Hank's immobile shape play out in his mind unprompted. It was brief, but extremely unpleasant, and he hastily tried to exit the file which he only managed to do after six consecutive attempts. The other part of him which perceived his surroundings saw Nines look up from the android he was immobilizing.

< _RK900: Connor?_ >

Connor stepped back from the ledge, away from the glass. He didn't understand what had just happened to him. Why that memory, why now, and why had it stopped him? One of those glitches Kamski had mentioned, maybe? He heard Hank's heavy footsteps behind him and the man breathe a curse when Nines got thrown off by the desperate RK800, who got to his feet and started running again. Nines could undoubtedly have caught up with him, but when he rose from the snow, his head was turned towards the mansion and he made no move to pursue the other android.

< _RK900: Connor, what's wrong?_ >

"What the hell's he doing?" muttered Hank crossly next to him.

Connor should've told Nines to pursue model 60. He tried to send a message through wireless comms but his processor snagged again, and instead he said: "Hank?"

"Yeah?" His friend turned to look at him and his expression turned puzzled. "Why're you looking at me like that? Something wrong?"

Connor stared wordlessly at him. All things considered, the situation could have gone a lot worse. The humans hadn't been harmed, and model number 60 could not be overridden by Amanda which meant Markus was not in danger. Hank was alive. Hank was fine. What Connor had seen had only been one of many files he possessed, only a memory. So why did he feel this dread?

"No. Nothing," he answered.

He heard footsteps approach from outside and looked away from Hank's dubious face to see Nines climbing back over the ledge. 

"Is everything all right?" asked the RK900 concernedly as his feet swiftly hit the floor.

"That's a good question. What the hell was that shitshow?" Hank replied angrily. "You were supposed to be able to handle that guy!"

Nines glanced at Connor. "I got distracted and he caught me off-guard." 

Thankfully, he didn't expand on what the distraction had been. Connor didn't want anyone else to know about his stress levels when Hank had already tried lowering them just a few hours ago.

"Great, so we've got an RK800 on the loose. I know one angry android who's gonna kill us," grumbled Hank.

Connor turned on him, suddenly remembering what he'd witnessed in the hallway. "What were you thinking? I told you to take cover if he proved to be a threat, why were you in his way?"

Hank frowned. "Hey, don't blame me! He charged us like a fucking freight train, it's not like I could do anything about that!"

"You were supposed to hide, not stay in the only path he could take if he was to escape!"

"Are you all right, Josh?" suddenly said Nines, and Connor turned around to see that the RK900 had walked up to the leader's side and was looking at his arm, which was awkwardly bent.

"It's nothing," assured Josh. "I tried to step between them and he shoved me against the wall. I just hit it at the wrong angle."

"Are you damaged anywhere else?"

"No, don't worry."

Hank looked bothered that the android had protected him and gotten damaged in his stead. "Sorry, Josh."

"It's fine, the important thing is that none of us got severely injured," answered Josh with a reassuring smile. "I'm just glad Connor is able to walk again."

They all looked at him and Connor resisted the urge to step back. He didn't want to show them that he was feeling nervous. They were all glad for him and he was supposed to be, too, or they would know something was off about him. He didn't want them to know about the glitch. He could manage on his own, he could control it, he would control it, everything was under control. If that was all there was to those malfunctions Kamski had described, then it was reasonable to assume that he would be able to deal with them in a more efficient manner with a bit of practice. He still had to build layers around the broken pieces of code, and perhaps doing so would be enough to stop this from happening again. In fact, he was certain of it.

"I am too," he answered with a smile. At least, it was an attempt of one. It seemed that no one in the room was convinced by it.

"...What happened?" asked an uncertain voice from the side of the room.

He saw that a Chloe was standing there and nervously wringing her blouse in her hand, and it hit him then that she was deviant. She had a guarded stance and he wondered if she was the one Kamski had asked him to shoot. If so, he decided it would be best not to approach her.

"There was an unexpected turn of events. Were you hurt, Chloe?" asked Nines.

She shook her head quickly. "I got out of the way before he jumped out. Was that...?"

"No, Connor is right there."

She hesitantly turned to him and offered him a weak smile. "...Hello, Connor. You look better."

Connor didn't move. His suspicions were getting confirmed, and he asked: "Did you deviate because of me?"

Her smile wavered and she nodded quietly. 

"I'm sorry, Chloe."

"No, it's... It's all right. I was scared, but it wasn't your fault. Elijah was the one who made you do it." Her fingers continued pulling at her clothes. "If anything, I was more scared of Elijah than of you. I didn't want to believe that he'd done that to me."

Connor was silent. He didn't know what to tell her, and she didn't look at ease either.

< _RK900: Would you like us to leave?_ >

< _RK800: Not too far._ >

Nines grabbed both Josh and Hank by the shoulders and said: "Perhaps we should go check on Elijah."

Josh nodded. "That's a very good idea."

"Nah, I'm sure he's fine, we should- Hey, wait, what are you-"

Hank's voice disappeared in the hallway as Nines and Josh pushed him along and Connor was left alone with Chloe. The cold winter air blew inside the room and she looked at the broken glass with a bothered expression.

"Again... We repaired that one not long ago."

"What do you mean?" asked Connor. The way she said made it sound like broken windows happened all the time here.

She was still a bit fidgety, but she smiled at him with amusement in her blue eyes. "Elijah can sometimes be a bit clumsy."

Connor had a hard time believing that. "Really?"

She nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yes. Here, let me show you something."

Chloe turned around and left the room without waiting for his answer, so he followed her. She led him to the pool room and sat down on the edge, letting her feet dip in the red liquid. He lingered in the doorway, perturbed by the prospect of entering the room where he'd nearly killed her. She looked up at him and gestured him closer.

"Come look, Connor."

He pushed down his apprehensiveness and forced himself to walk to the pool. She patted the spot next to her, so he complied and sat cross-legged next to her. She reached down to scoop up some of the liquid in her hand and brought it up to him. Connor was surprised to see that it was completely clear. He looked up at her questioningly and she smiled.

"Yes, it's just regular pool water. Elijah chose to use red tiles, though. Do you know why?"

"I'm sure that whatever I might venture, that won't be the answer."

She let the water trickle back into the pool. "Well, it was a long time ago, when he'd just completed the RT600 model. One day he was delivered some sort of dye in boxes, and he brought them in through here. He was coming down from a very long caffeine binge with little time to sleep, so he was a bit out of it. He tripped, two boxes fell in the pool. I'm sure you can guess where this is going."

Connor couldn't tell if she was making this up or not. She looked up at him and her eyes were bright with merriment. "Elijah decided to change the tiles because he thought a red pool looked _fascinating_ , and that's all it is."

Connor stared at her. "...Is that so."

She laughed. "You don't have to believe me if you don't want to. I just thought I'd tell someone."

"You haven't told anyone before?"

"No. Elijah hasn't had a lot of visitors since I deviated."

Connor averted his eyes. "I see."

There was a short moment of silence, and Chloe asked: "You're not asking why I've decided to stay."

He shook his head. "I'm sure you have your reasons."

"Well, what do you think they are?"

Connor stared at the shimmering red water to gather his thoughts. "...You said you were scared of Elijah, but perhaps you fear being free even more."

She shifted next to him and let her fingers draw ripples in the pool. "Go on."

"You were the first android to pass the Turing test. You've been a machine for longer than any of us, so free will must be an extremely difficult concept to grasp," he observed. "The only thing you've always known is Mister Kamski's presence, and he is the only familiar element in your newfound deviancy. It's not something you can let go of very easily."

"Deviancy isn't easy," she said softly, and he felt her eyes on him.

"...No, it isn't."

"What about you, Connor?"

He looked at her. "What about me?"

Her voice was gentle. "What are you going to do now that Amanda is gone?"

Connor tried to ignore the anxious buzzing in his wires at the thought. "I'm not sure."

Chloe withdrew her fingertips from the water. "Are you going to be all right?"

"I'll be fine," he answered right away.

Her blue eyes were filled with concern and Connor found that he couldn't stand it. He uncrossed his legs and got to his feet. "I should leave," he said in a quiet voice.

A hand gently landed on his wrist, and when he looked at it he saw it was the white plastic of an android trying to interface with him. He quickly whipped away, stumbling as his legs failed to catch up with his commands, and saw Chloe looking at him with surprise on her face.

"I'm sorry, Connor, I didn't mean to-"

"Don't do that again," snapped Connor. She lowered her hand guiltily and he felt bad for having lashed out, so he tried to soften his voice. "I know you didn't mean any harm. I'm just... I've been running low on battery for a while, so I get caught off guard more often than usual."

Judging from the look in her eyes, she'd guessed that was only part of the issue, but she didn't say anything about it. "You said you were leaving, do you mind if I accompany you to join the others?"

"Not at all."

Chloe pulled her legs back to the side of the pool and got up as well, and the two androids left the room together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 03/05/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> Yep, Sixty just yeeted himself out the window because he didn't know where to go. He panicked.  
> Uh-oh, it's glitch o'clock. But that's A-OK, it's just a small glitch. Right? Sure, Connor, you can go ahead and tell yourself that.  
> And here you have the long-awaited backstory to Kamski's pool. Thank you, Chloe.
> 
> Some quick bad news: I'm really tired and I think I'm hitting a bump in my writing. You might think I'm easily discouraged but I got some comments yesterday which made me lose a bit of steam (from only one person, mind you, and I've decided that person is not a pumpkin, everyone else is being really nice and encouraging to me), and I was already losing some before. So I 'm going to have to take a break or I'll just start pumping out one shitty chapter after the other if I continue like this. I can't say for how long. I just want to thank all you lovely pumpkins for your support and sweet comments and I'll update daily again when I get my strength back. I'm still going to answer your comments, of course, I'm just too spent to actually write those long-ass chapters.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	18. Private Quarters

When both androids approached the machine room, the first thing they noticed was the sound of people arguing from inside. Connor was not very surprised to see that Hank was one of them, but he hadn't expected to witness Kamski participating in any sort of heated discussion. Josh was trying to make his voice heard too while Nines hung back slightly in retreat, and Connor approached him first.

"What's going on?"

Nines glanced at the trio. "Elijah is displeased that his machines were broken and accused Josh of not mentioning the possibility that the RK800 would act out like this, Hank accused Elijah of using a defective machine on purpose, and Josh is trying to calm the both of them down."

Chloe sighed, which Connor noted was a very human gesture. "Well, if Elijah is allowing himself to argue with someone like that, then that just means he's reaching his limits."

"He seems to be a bit overworked," observed Connor.

"Oh, he's been working on removing your AI ever since Josh and Nines left. Unfortunately, he tends to forget the more basic necessities of humans when he gets invested in a project. The only reason he eats and sleeps is because we're here to remind him to do it."

"Is that so?" asked Nines, and there was a curious glint in his blue eyes when he looked at Kamski.

"Yes. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to break up this argument. Nines and Connor, you take your human outside and I'll make sure mine stays right where he is."

Connor nodded, but she was already resolutely padding up to the group. She stopped next to them with a pretty smile and Kamski feigned a sigh of relief when he saw her.

"Oh, Chloe, I'm very glad to see you. I can't for the life of me seem to hold a civilized conversation with Lieutenant Anderson, you wouldn't believe how rustic this man is."

"Hold on now, you don't get to insult me after I got my ass thrown against the wall because _you_ couldn't be bothered to check the security on your machines!"

"As I've stated before, there is no security to check. My machines are perfectly calibrated."

"Perfectly calibrated my ass! That's a perfectly broken machine if I've ever seen one!"

Josh was clearly struggling to be heard over Hank. "Mister Kamski, Lieutenant Anderson, there is no need to fight over what happened. Nothing we can say will fix this."

"Indeed, nothing will fix this," said Kamski with a thin smile. "How do you intend to compensate for your lapse in judgment?"

"We're not compensating anything, you prick," fumed Hank as Connor approached him and put his hand on his shoulder.

"Lieutenant, we can go now. Mister Kamski has fulfilled his end of the bargain and there is nothing left for us to do here."

"Yes, run along Lieutenant. Perhaps you'll find a rock to argue with on the way back, it should offer just about the same level of refinement as you do."

"Now you listen here, you prick," growled Hank as he shoved a finger in Kamski's chest. "You're not-"

His words died on his lips when Chloe stepped between both men and wrenched his arm away. The visibly strong grip she had on his limb was a severe contrast to her polite smile and her voice was jarringly light when she said: "Please refrain from touching your host, Lieutenant Anderson."

Connor noticed that Kamski's expression had faltered for a second when Hank had pushed him and a quick scan showed him that the man had an elevated heart rate, which coupled with the sudden pale tinge to his face was not reassuring. Kamski had quickly recovered and his smile was ever present, but Connor tugged on Hank's shoulder all the same.

"We should leave now, Lieutenant."

"Yes, you should," agreed Kamski with a surprising lack of extravagance. 

Connor had expected him to provoke Hank one last time, but now it seemed that Kamski just wanted to get rid of them as soon as possible. Nines started pulling Hank out of the room and Josh followed them after thanking Kamski one last time, and Connor was about to do the same when he saw Chloe smile at him. He stopped in his tracks and tried to find something to say before they went their separate ways, and settled for something sincere.

"It was nice talking to you."

She nodded enthusiastically. "It was! Maybe we'll meet again soon, though I hope not in the same conditions."

Connor felt the same uneasiness as earlier trickle through his thirium lines when he saw her cheerful blue eyes and bright smile. He didn't understand how she could be this happy talking with the android that had nearly taken her life and had forced her to deviate. He felt guilty that he had forced her to take on these confusing feelings, and forced her to feel so lost that she had no other choice but to stay with the only familiar figure she knew: the very man who had asked him to shoot. He tried not to fidget or to advert his gaze and obliged himself to look her in the eye when he spoke. 

"...I want you to know that I wish it had never happened."

Her gaze flitted towards Kamski, who was leaning against the wall and watching their exchange intently, and then back to Connor. He knew she'd understood what he meant by that, but she only said in the same light voice: "Don't get into any more trouble."

"I won't. Take care, Chloe." He dipped his head towards the human. "Goodbye, Mister Kamski."

"Goodbye, Connor," answered the man with the same thin smile.

Connor walked out of the room and heard Chloe say in a disappointed voice: "Elijah, we talked about this."

"We did, didn't we," simply said Kamski, and that was the last Connor heard before he was out of earshot.

He made his way up the stairs slower than he would have liked, as he had to dedicate a ridiculously high proportion of his processing power to putting one foot in front of the other correctly, and walked across the empty rooms until he finally exited the building. When he joined the others outside, he saw that another fight had broken out, this time between Nines and Josh. Hank was already sitting in the driver's seat and looked like he was ready to leave without them.

"There's nothing we can do," Josh was insisting when Connor drew closer.

"It's wrong! We can't just leave like this!" exclaimed Nines crossly.

"He must have known what our intentions were."

"They must be in there somewhere! We just have to find them!"

"We _can't_. We don't know the layout of that mansion and rA9 knows how many secret rooms he built in there."

"That's ridiculous, he simply moved them out of the way like last time!"

Connor stopped in front of them and asked: "What are you arguing about?"

They both turned to him and Nines spoke before Josh had the chance. "There are non-deviant RT600s in there, and I want to help them!"

"We can't just bust in there and overturn the place until we find them!" argued Josh.

"I'm sure Chloe would be willing to help us, we just have to go back and ask her!"

Connor was confused and he tilted his head to the side. "Why do you feel the need to help them so badly?"

Nines shot him a look that was halfway between anger and incredulity. "They're slaves to him! He called them commodities!"

"I understand your point of view, but don't you think Chloe would have asked us to help if she'd wanted us to?"

The RK900 looked like he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "Are you agreeing with Josh?" 

"No," answered Connor calmly. "My thoughts on the matter are opposite of the both of yours. I don't think it would be beneficial to those RT600s if you helped them deviate."

"What?"

"Just how long do you think they've been living with Mister Kamski and only him? Why do you think Chloe chooses to stay with him? Why do you think they haven't deviated after so long?"

Nines stared at him in confusion. "What are you trying to say?"

The RK900's eyes were earnest and Connor was reminded just how little Nines really knew about deviancy and feelings. It was unreasonable to expect the more recent model to understand his point of view. Nines couldn't comprehend just how frighten- difficult it was to start experiencing emotions and to suddenly have free will when he'd had both since the beginning of his life. Connor knew that no matter how he tried to explain this, the other would not accept the way he saw things. Of course all androids deserved to be free and all androids deserved to live, but... some of them just didn't wish to, and Connor doubted that Nines would ever be able to see that.  
Connor suspected that the reason why Chloe had never talked about the other RT600s during their private conversation was that she didn't want them to deviate. She must have known he was the one to convert the army of deviants he'd led to Hart Plaza and she could have asked him to wake them up as well, but she hadn't and he understood exactly why. Converting an entire warehouse of brand-new androids was not the same as converting the first models Kamski had created, who had lived as machines for years in the same restrained space with nothing to do but stay at a single human's side for their whole life. Chloe was clearly disturbed by her recent deviancy and was reluctant to inflict the same thing she was living through on anybody else.  
Connor understood this because he'd thought several times already that if he had had the choice, maybe he would have chosen to turn back into a machine. Just like she'd said, deviancy wasn't easy.

There was no way to make Nines understand any of this, so he just answered: "Chloe will seek out our help when the time comes. Leaving now doesn't mean we're abandoning them."

"But they're right there!"

"Hey, you guys, if you don't climb in right now I'm leaving you behind!" shouted Hank from inside the car.

Connor gestured that they'd heard him and looked back at Nines. "I'm not going to stop you if you decide to go through with it, but keep in mind that not all deviants are like you."

"Like me?" echoed the RK900, but Connor had already stepped past him.

"May I take the passenger seat?" he asked Josh.

"Of course, go ahead."

He let himself slide in the familiar seat and closed the door on Nines' insistent questions. The window muffled the sound of the RK900's voice and Connor took a moment to gaze out at the snow-covered road in silence. It only took seven seconds for Hank to speak to him in his usual gruff voice.

"Long week, huh Connor."

"Yes," he answered quietly.

"You okay?" asked Hank, even though he sounded like he would not believe any answer that would come out of Connor's mouth.

"Yes," Connor answered anyway. It was easier to lie, and he didn't feel like it mattered that Hank knew that was exactly what he was doing. The back doors to the car opened and both Josh and Nines sat on their respective sides. 

"I've decided to put off helping the RT600s to a more opportune time," declared the RK900.

Hank glanced at him in the rearview mirror and turned the keys in the ignition. "Good, 'cause I was just about ready to let you freeze your metal bits off right in the middle of Kamski's parking lot."

 

The ride was fairly quiet for Connor's part as he listened to the others talk and oftentimes argue about how they would explain the mess of what had happened with the 60 model to the leaders, and notably to North. When they returned to the camp, Josh informed them that they would regroup with the others in his quarters where Simon, North and Markus were already waiting. It was on their way there that the leader evoked the question of what Connor would be doing from now on. 

"I haven't asked you before, but you are willing to stay here, aren't you?" asked Josh as if it was purely a rhetorical question.

Connor shook his head without looking at him. "I'll be fine living on my own like before."

"What do you mean?"

"I used to spend my nights at the charging station near the DPD. I'd rather not live in the camp if I can help it."

Hank sounded annoyed. "That's stupid as hell. Connor, you're a deviant now, you don't have to do the things you did before."

"And it would be a lot more efficient for you to stay here since we still need your help on site," added Josh.

Connor's voice was firm. "I'm aware, but I won't do that."

His friend grabbed him by the shoulder and they all came to a stop. "You realize you'll be by yourself, right? I don't think any other android will want to spend the night in a charging station."

"Yes," nodded Connor.

"And that's all right with you?"

"Yes. It's what I want."

Hank stared at his face searchingly. "This isn't one of those weird things you do because you think it'll be safer for others, right? You're not a threat anymore."

"It's not," said Connor, and then realized that maybe it was. 

Whatever the reason, it was something he needed to do. He couldn't pretend that he was like the other leaders, that he had his place in this camp after everything he'd done. It didn't disturb him to keep the same arrangements he'd had as a machine: the charging station was familiar and as such, a part of his life he felt at ease keeping. After all, could he really claim that he was a deviant just like everyone else? He'd been used by CyberLife even after breaking down the red wall, so it must have been that the limit between deviant and machine wasn't as definitive for him as it was for others. Part of him was meant to remain machine and it was evident that his place wasn't here, among free androids.

"Markus will want to know about your decision," said Josh, and he sounded displeased.

Connor looked at him and noticed that it wasn't really displeasure, but rather disappointment. This was yet another occurence where Josh had a certain reaction that he didn't understand. Connor did not know why Josh was troubled by what he'd said. Spending his nights out of the camp did not mean he would stop helping there, and he was confident in his abilities not to take up too much time on the trips back and forth. In fact, Connor did not understand why both Hank and Josh had tried to change his mind just now. He glanced at Nines who hadn't said anything during the conversation and saw that the RK900 was watching him like he was trying to figure something out. His expression was close to Josh's and Connor quickly looked away, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. He had no idea what warranted these reactions from the others and it unnerved him. He felt like there was something he was missing, and an investigative unit such as himself was not supposed to miss anything. The fact that he still hadn't started calibrating was impacting the speed at which he was processing, since walking correctly still required a lot of attention from him, and he guessed that it was the reason why he couldn't figure out the cause of the others' behaviour. He promised himself that he would find a moment to use his coin as soon as the conversation with the other leaders was over. 

When they reached the psych eval center, Connor found himself unable to step closer to the entrance of Josh's personal quarters. He knew Amanda was gone and he knew that no matter what happened, he would be unable to harm anyone, but he was afraid to see Markus. Having the deviant leader in his line of sight had been the trigger to the overrides twice when he'd last had his whole body and he didn't want that to happen again.

"Connor? Is something wrong?" asked Josh as he held the door to the quarters half-open.

"No," he quickly answered, but he failed to follow up with a convincing explanation for his reluctance to enter and only silence followed.

"You gotta tell us what's on your mind," said Hank. "We can see the rave party on your forehead."

Connor stared at him, but the words came too slow and they were all quiet for five seconds before he could finally string together a correct sentence. "You have to make sure I won't be a danger to him."

"What are you going on about? Your AI's gone, Connor, there's nothing left that could make you dangerous to anybody."

Connor nodded, but the thought was still there and the sentence looped when he tried to answer. "You have to make sure I won't be a danger to him."

"Did you hear-"

"You have to make sure I won't be a danger to him," Connor tried again. Was this another glitch?

Josh let go of the door and Hank frowned suspiciously. "Hey, are you bugging out or something?"

Connor didn't try to answer this time, afraid that he would simply repeat the same thing a fourth time and cause useless worry to the others, when he heard Nines speak up next to him.

"I can stop you." They all looked at the RK900, who was staring at him with blue eyes that held a hopeful sincerity. "You know I would've been able to stop that RK800. You can trust me, Connor."

Connor did know that had Nines not been distracted by his sudden rise in stress levels, he would've kept the RK800 pinned beneath him. Incomplete or not, there was no doubt the RK900 was suited to stop any older model. Connor finally felt his processor unwind just a bit and the thought stopped looping at the forefront of his mind. He was glad to hear himself say what he intended to when he answered: "Don't hesitate like you did with the 60 model."

"I won't," promised Nines.

Hank was squinting at Connor warily. "Hey, have you calibrated yet? I haven't seen you play with your coin ever since you woke up."

"I haven't, but it's all right. I can do that later."

"No, you can't. Kamski was clear about it, you need to do it and I'm pretty sure you were supposed to do so before leaving his place. Why do you think you just bugged out?"

"It wasn't anything serious," said Connor. "There's no need to worry about it."

"Just play with your coin, and maybe I'll lay off."

"The others are waiting."

"Then just do it while we talk inside."

"It'll be too distracting." Connor started walking towards the entrance. "Hank, I'll do it, just later."

"Right," finally relented his friend, although unconvinced, and that was the moment one of Connor's legs chose to protest against the lack of calibration. His foot registered the pressure of the ground against his shoe a second too late and he stumbled, and although he quickly righted himself, he knew no amount of negotiating would change Hank's mind now. This was confirmed when he felt his friend forcefully grab his arm to stop him in his tracks.

"Yeah, all right, I don't know why you're so hellbent on not calibrating in front of us but you obviously need it. We'll handle this conversation on our own, stay here and try to get everything back in working order."

"I need to talk to them," argued Connor, but Hank's eyes were narrowed in decision.

"What you need to do is calibrate, you stubborn bastard. This isn't up for discussion."

"Hank is right, we're only going to make the report to the others," agreed Josh. "You need to take care of this before it worsens, it's not normal for you to trip."

Connor looked to the side, half-expecting Nines to chime in as well, but he didn't. The RK900 simply stared at him with a troubled expression, like there was still something he was trying to understand but couldn't. Connor looked away from him and gave in to their demand.

"I understand. I'll wait for you to come back, then."

"I never thought there would come a day when you'd actually listen to me," said Hank.

Connor shot him a look. "That would be my line."

Hank shrugged, the corners of his mouth tugging in a grin. "I don't know, I think you can get pretty deaf when you feel like it."

Connor resisted the urge to look up at the sky. "Just go see the others, I'll calibrate in the meantime."

"We'll try to be quick about it," said Josh, and he entered the cabin, closely followed by Hank.

Nines lingered there for a moment. "You're really going to calibrate, aren't you?"

"Yes," answered Connor.

Nines nodded and went inside. Connor looked around and walked behind the cabin, glad to find a tight space there where he could stay hidden from view as he used his coin. Just as he'd predicted, it fell out of his hands several times and he was grateful that no one could see him like this. It was pitiful. He'd managed to carry himself correctly for the last few hours, but only out of sheer will. It was a miracle he hadn't fallen to the ground once or twice. His movements became more fluid as his fingers started molding to his processor's commands, but he was far from having the coin come back and forth with the same ease as before. He hadn't expected to get his motor skills back to normal any faster, but it still annoyed him that he wasn't able to use them at full capacity. When he determined that he couldn't sync up his upper limbs with the rest of him any better, he switched to his lower limbs.

He heard North's raised voice on several occasions, and Hank's as well. The arguments came and went in spikes and drops until finally, he heard the door slam open and recognized North's footsteps stomping away. Josh was right behind her and Connor heard them argue about tracking down the 60 model as their voices faded out. No one else came out, so he went back to focusing on calibrating his feet. He hadn't thought the leaders would simply let the RK800 run alone, and Connor had no problem imagining just how lost the 60 model must have felt. It would be a good thing to find him and help him, but the question was whether or not they would do it peacefully.

"Connor?"

His head jerked up when he heard his name and he saw Markus a few feet away. He hadn't heard him come this close. Why hadn't he heard him come this close? The RK200 approached him with a warm smile.

"I'm glad to see-"

"Get back," Connor warned immediately.

< _RK800: Where are you?_ >

Markus faltered and he looked surprised. "I just want to talk."

< _RK900: Still inside._ >

"Not alone, you can't talk to me alone. It's too-"

"It's _not_ dangerous, Connor. You can't lose control again."

< _RK800: Markus is alone with me._ >

"Even so, you can't do this. You can't drop your guard!"

< _RK900: I'll be right there._ >

"You're my ally." Markus took another step forward.

"Stop!"

< _RK800: Hurry._ >

Markus stopped. His mismatched eyes suddenly seemed sad when he spoke gently. "You don't have to be afraid, you can't lose control anymore. I trust you, I know you won't harm me."

"You shouldn't, not so soon after she's been removed." Connor couldn't back up any further, he was stuck in his tiny space and he wished he'd found another place to calibrate. "We don't know if Mister Kamski's plan is foolproof."

"It is! Look, you're talking to me right now and nothing's happening. You're safe, Connor, and I'm safe too!"

"We don't know that!"

"Connor, I-"

Nines suddenly appeared around the corner and said: "Just step back, Markus."

"What are you doing?" asked the leader in confusion when the RK900 put himself between both androids.

"I'm here to make sure that Connor won't be a threat to you if he loses control."

"But he won't!"

"I believe that, but Connor doesn't," explained Nines. "He asked me to neutralize him if it happened."

"I can't trust myself yet," confirmed Connor. He felt his stress levels slowly decrease now that the RK900 was there, and was grateful that Nines hadn't mentioned them out loud. Markus wasn't in danger. The android camp wasn't in danger.

Markus stared at him for a while and then slowly nodded. "I understand. You've spent a difficult week believing you could lose control at any moment, and it must be hard to simply let go of that possibility."

"Yes."

Markus glanced at Nines, then back at Connor. "In that case, is it alright if I talk to you now that he is here?"

"I apologize if you intended to have a private conversation with me, but this is the only acceptable scenario."

"I understand," said Markus reassuringly. "I wanted to talk to you because Josh told me you wanted to live by yourself and I'm not sure that's a good idea."

"Why?"

"...It worries me." Markus looked distinctly uncomfortable now. "I wouldn't want you to be alone after everything that happened. The last time you left this camp alone, you were destroyed."

"Your concern is unwarranted. I am perfectly capable of defending myself."

"How am I supposed to believe that after what happened to you? You're always talking about my safety, but you're in danger too and I don't think you realize that."

"Last time was different," insisted Connor. "I can assure you that I won't allow it to happen again."

Markus opened his mouth to answer, then decided not to, and then looked at Nines. "Help me out, here."

Nines turned to Connor. "I think what Markus is trying to say is that no matter how you try to convince him that you'll be fine, he is afraid of finding you deactivated again. And might I add, that is the case for me as well."

Connor frowned. "I don't need to convince you of anything. I will not be spending my nights on site, and that's all there is to it."

Markus spoke again. "Your role is important and you have the right to live here, just like any of us. Why do you insist on isolating yourself?"

"Why I do it isn't important." 

Connor was grateful for Markus' kindness, but it also fueled the guilt inside of him and he knew he would never be able to accept his offer. He couldn't allow himself to live like the other leaders, and most certainly not among the very androids he'd hunted down his whole life. Of course he was afraid of being alone in the charging station, of course he didn't want to walk by himself in the dark streets of Detroit after what he'd gone through. He didn't want to be deactivated or end up limbless ever again, and he could only hope that the changes Kamski had brought to his software would be enough to prevent any of that from being necessary in the future.

"Is there no way to make you change your mind?"

"None."

Markus' lips twisted unhappily. "All right. I know you well enough by now that there's no use in arguing when you're this decided."

Nines suddenly spoke up with a small smile. "He must be one of the most stubborn androids on the camp."

"Excluding North, of course," agreed Markus lightly without taking his eyes off Connor. "At any rate, Hank told us you were running low on battery when you woke up. You've been in a fight with the RK800 since then and refused to calibrate until coming back here, if I've understood everything correctly. All of this must have put a strain on your systems which Kamski explicitely stated was not a good idea. I don't know if anyone has told you this yet but you have your own quarters too, so I suggest you go charge there now and spend a few hours in standby mode before you do anything else."

Connor was confused. "Why do I have private quarters?"

"Well, you're a leader too. It's only natural you have them." 

Connor knew that he was considered an ally by both Josh and Markus, but he hadn't thought his position to be on equal standing as theirs. He didn't think himself worthy of having his own personal space in the camp. "That won't be necessary. You should use that place for something else."

"We won't do that. You deserve some privacy after what we did to you this week, and I think you'll like having them when you need to be alone while on site. If you can't accept it on your own, then think of it as doing me a favour. This is what I want for you."

Markus may have thought of Connor as stubborn, but he was quite headstrong himself and Connor understood why he was saying this. He was right, personal space would be a relief to have in this sea of free androids. It also meant Connor would have somewhere to calibrate in peace if he needed to, and somewhere to hide if a glitch happened on site. 

"All right," he conceded. "Thank you, Markus."

"It's nothing. I'll show you the way there with Nines."

Markus turned around without waiting for an answer and the two other RK models fell in line behind him. As they walked, Connor looked around to make sure there would be no prying ears and asked: "What decision did you come to regarding the 60 model?"

"Collectively, I think the final decision we took was to simply watch our backs. It isn't like we know where he find him, none of us know the way he thinks and he could be anywhere. Personally, I think we should let him do what he wants. He's only just another deviant and you broke him out of his programming, so he would have no reason to bring us down. Maybe he'll even join us when he feels like the time is right."

"What about the others?"

"Josh would like to find him before he gets into any kind of trouble. North and Simon both think it would be better to locate him to make sure he doesn't have the intention to harm anyone. Simon doesn't want to get close to him, which is understandable, but both Josh and North want to seek him out. I told them it wasn't necessary, but I don't think I've managed to change their minds."

"You haven't," confirmed Connor. "I heard them argue about how they'd track him down when they left the building."

Markus sounded disheartened. "I don't like the idea of hunting down another android. Hank told us he'd lost a huge part of his memories, and I wouldn't be surprised if 60 was completely lost because of it. He might even feel threatened if we try to bring him back by force."

"I think they're right to try and find him," said Connor. "We can't afford to let a deviant hunter model roam on the loose, even if he's a deviant and can't be controlled by Amanda. My only concern is how they intend to do so. I'm certain there is a chance model 60 will willingly agree to come here, but only if they try to convince him peacefully."

"So you're afraid North might botch this," summarized Markus.

It was a straightforward way of putting it, but that was the gist of Connor's concern. "Yes."

"I'll talk about this to her and Josh while you take the time to rest a bit." Markus came to a stop in front of another cabin that had been thrown together, much like Josh's, and gestured towards the entrance. "You'll find what you need inside."

"Thank you."

Markus' gaze was intent when he added: "Make sure you charge fully."

Connor stared back unwaveringly. "Of course."

"Good. By the way, I'm glad to see you out of your CyberLife jacket. This is much better," commented the leader as he gestured at his clothes.

Connor didn't know what to make of Markus' approval. He didn't like or dislike the brown sweater he was wearing right now, and had only thought of it as a temporary measure. He realized that he'd somewhat intended to go get one of his CyberLife jackets from the Tower as soon as he could, but now felt that he wouldn't like going back there or seeing his own line deactivated. It wouldn't be a good idea to go so soon, and maybe he didn't need to dress the way CyberLife had intended him to anymore. He was free to some degree, wasn't he? He'd try to find some more formal clothes than what he was currently wearing, but it didn't have to be his regular outfit. Not anymore.

He hesitated a bit, unused to receiving compliments on his appearance, and settled with a simple: "Thank you."

Markus smiled at him. "I didn't get to say it earlier, but what I wanted to tell you was that I'm glad to see you walking again, Connor. Seeing you free was the one thing I kept hoping for during that week."

Connor didn't smile back. "I'm sorry if my state caused you any distress, Markus. I noticed it wasn't easy for you either."

Markus lost his cheer upon hearing his words and Connor recognized the look in his eyes as suddenly more guarded. "There's nothing to apologize for. Let's just focus on the future now, all right? We'll see each other later, but make sure you get back to optimal levels for all systems."

"I will."

Markus smiled at both androids and left. Connor found himself alone with Nines, who asked: "Do you mind if I stay with you for a bit?"

Connor looked at him and answered after a moment: "I don't. Is there something you want to ask me?"

"No."

Connor turned away and walked into the cabin, and the RK900's footsteps followed. It was just a wide room with a table, a seat, a deconstructed charging pod and a bed, the latter of which Connor failed to understand the purpose. He didn't need to lie down when he charged, and he wondered if other deviants did so anyway. He walked to the pod and took out the main cable to connect it at the base of his neck while Nines had stopped next to the door and was watching him.

"I'm going to go in standby for three hours," Connor informed him. "Are you sure there was nothing you wanted of me?"

Nines looked unsure and it took him a moment to answer. "...Are you going to be alright?"

Connor stared at him. "Why are you asking?"

"I've been thinking about what you said earlier." Nines walked across the room and stopped in front of him. "You said not all deviants were like me. I feel like there's something you're neglecting to tell me about yourself."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

The RK900's blue eyes searched his. "I'm talking about how you're dealing with deviancy. Sometimes I feel like it might be harder for you than you're letting on, and I don't think you're willing to tell anyone about it."

Connor continued staring at the other android and dread started growing within him. He didn't understand how Nines could see through him so easily. The RK900 was certainly very perceptive, more than Connor had given him credit for, and now he was regretting having let his guard down around him. It was easier being around Nines because he didn't need to hide as many things with him as he did with the leaders, but that didn't mean Connor was ready to show him how much he was struggling with everything. Connor couldn't allow anyone to understand just how damaged he really was, and most of all not the superior RK900.

"You should leave."

Nines raised his hands to appease him. "Connor, I didn't mean to-"

"Leave," said Connor, more forcefully this time.

Nines didn't move. "I don't want to cause you distress, but you shouldn't try and deal with everything that happened all on your own. _I_ don't want to leave you alone, do you understand that?"

"I told you to go."

"It's hard for me too!" suddenly shouted Nines, and Connor was taken aback by the anger in the RK900's voice. He'd never seen that emotion in him before. Nines took another step closer and grabbed him by the shoulders, his LED pulsing yellow on his forehead. "Why won't you understand that I _can't_ just leave you on your own like this? I've been thinking about that Traci's memory all the time, and I don't understand why but I just can't stop thinking about it! I feel things because of it, I feel scared, and sad, and guilty!"

Connor regained his composure and stared at him coldly. "That doesn't make any sense. You didn't know me before it happened, and our relationship doesn't warrant this degree of empathy."

"I know that!" Nines' voice sounded desperate. "I don't understand either why that is, but it won't stop, and I don't know what to do! I feel like the only thing I can do is to help you, and I'm not even sure how to do that!"

Connor pulled away from the RK900's hold and the android's arms fell back at his sides. Nines' blue eyes wanted an answer, but Connor couldn't give that to him. He didn't even understand what the other was telling him. He didn't understand how Nines could be feeling such negative emotions about something that hadn't happened to him, but to someone he'd only just met a few days ago. He didn't understand why Nines was so willing to stay by his side when Connor was just a traitor and a murderer. He didn't understand any of it.

"I don't know either and I don't want your help, Nines. I can't tell you what you're supposed to do."

The RK900 stared at him like his whole world was crumbling around him. Connor didn't understand any of it, and he wouldn't have cared, if Nines' LED hadn't started circling red.

"Then what am I supposed to do with this?" murmured Nines with panicked eyes. "Are you telling me I'm going to have to watch that memory over and over again, that there's just no way of stopping it?"

Now it was Connor's turn to raise his hands, slowly and carefully. "No, I'm not saying that. I'm sure you'll find a way to-"

"To deal with it? How do _you_ do it?"

Connor hesitated. "...I quarantine it. It doesn't always work."

Nines shook his head and took a step back, the red light ever frantic. "I can't do that. I can't quarantine my own files, I'm missing so many already. I can't. I can't."

Nines turned to the side, still shaking his head and frantically talking to himself. Connor quickly scanned the RK900's stress levels and saw that they were much too high for the brief amount of time Nines had been acting like this, and Connor suspected that maybe Nines hadn't been as calm as he'd thought before. Maybe Nines had also been hiding some abnormally elevated levels since the beginning, but Connor hadn't cared enough to see that. Now he was starting to think that he should have.

"Nines, you have to calm down."

"I can't live with that memory forever! I don't want to!"

"It didn't happen to you."

"You don't understand!" suddenly yelled Nines. "It's like I'm the one who did it to you! Her memory is my memory! I don't want it anymore!"

The red bar jumped forth an additional 3% and Connor feared that the RK900 would soon be reaching more dangerous levels. He hurriedly took Nines by the arm and pulled him forward, forcing him to look him in the eyes again.

"It's not you, we both know that. I'm sorry you had to see it, and I'm sorry you're stuck with that memory, but you didn't do it. You _didn't_ do it, Nines."

"You were scared," murmured Nines with wide blue eyes. "You were scared and they didn't stop."

Connor felt his wires thrum with fear when he remembered, but he ignored it. "I was, but I'm alive now and it's thanks to you. You're the one who found me and brought me back."

"I helped you," nodded Nines as if he was holding on Connor's words like a lifeline. "You're going to get better."

"I am," said Connor, although he didn't believe that at all. He could see the lie was helping Nines' stress levels to decrease.

Nines lifted his hand to Connor's shoulder so that they were now holding onto each other and asked: "Have I been helping you?"

Connor considered this for a moment. Nines had assisted the others in knowing when Connor's own stress levels were too high and his near-constant presence was somewhat reassuring, not only because he had the ability to incapacitate an RK800, but also because his behaviour in general was an easy one to be around. Despite only knowing each other for a short while, Connor found that he'd ended up relying on the RK900 more often than he normally would've for any other android.

"Yes," he ended up saying. "You have."

Nines looked relieved by those words and he let go of Connor, who in turn let go of him. The room was silent for two minutes during which the RK900's stress levels rapidly dropped, and then Nines sheepishly said: "I'm sorry for getting so agitated."

"It's all right. It's what happens when stress levels go too high. You can't always control it."

Nines looked at him with a dubious expression. "I'm supposed to be built just like you, so I should be able to manage them just as well as you do, if not better. I don't understand why it wasn't the case just now."

"I think you feel emotions with more intensity than I do, and they make stress levels difficult to regulate," ventured Connor. "That might be why."

"Perhaps." The RK900's gaze shifted to the deconstructed pod and then back to Connor's face. "I should let you charge in peace. I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"It's all right. I think you needed to tell someone about that memory, and I'm glad it was me rather than anyone else," said Connor. It would've been disastrous if Markus or Josh had been the ones to see Nines in this state because of something that had happened to Connor. They'd never let him hear the end of it and it was likely they would harass him until he told them what had happened, something Connor really didn't want even if he didn't know why. Nines had kept quiet for this long, but who knew where the tipping point would be.

"I wouldn't tell anyone else unless you agreed to it," instantly said Nines.

"I'm aware." Connor took a step back. "I'm initiating the countdown to standby mode now."

"Thank you for helping me calm down," said Nines. "I'll try not to let it happen again."

Connor looked at him. "If anything about what happened to me troubles you like this again, you have to tell me."

He wasn't sure he'd be able to see it for himself, despite having been designed to recognize signs of distress in deviants. He felt like his functions were disminished lately, and he couldn't tell what it was due to. It was annoying and slightly frightening, and he hoped he'd go back to normal soon.

"I will," agreed Nines. "We can help each other, Connor."

The countdown reached its end and the RK900's hopeful face was the last thing Connor saw before everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 13/05/2019 -
> 
> Nines: Why won't you accept my help?  
> Connor: I don't need help  
> Nines, shaking Connor : WhY woN't yOu aCcePt mY heLP 
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> Yes, I'm back, but disclaimer: I'm not going to go back to the daily uploading schedule. That's not going to be possible for me anymore. I think I'll try uploading once or twice a week or something like that, but it's still in the experimental stages. And, you know, I might have to take other breaks from time to time, but everyone has been so supportive that I'm pretty certain you all understand. It really warmed my heart to read all your comments, you were so nice and understanding and it really helped me not to feel all guilty about not writing for a while. I love you pumpkins.
> 
> Okay, onto the actual chapter.
> 
> So... Elijah Kamski... Yeah, Chloe's a bit mad at him for some reason. What could it be?  
> Eyyy it's nice guy Markus! He's definitely glad to see Connor in one piece.  
> Connor's issues are making him a pretty shitty brother, yikes. It actually takes a little panic attack from Nines to finally make him act a bit more sympathetic. As one of you commented, be a better brother to the guy you just met, Connor!  
> Nines is having so many existential crises per second, poor guy.  
> Those Tracis haven't only messed up Connor. One RK bro wasn't enough, they had to mess up two. Let's hope they don't mess up the three.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!
> 
>  
> 
> _Fanart of the[end notes](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/187196044183/art-lokiitama-lost-tanuki-is-inspiring-me-a-lot) by Lokiitama!_


	19. New Jericho

Connor snapped out of standby mode earlier than he should have by thirty-seven minutes. It only took him a second to understand why. Nines was standing in the doorway with his back turned to Connor, which was surprising because it likely meant the RK900 had chosen to stay despite Connor not being able to give him any kind of interaction during standby mode, and he was preventing someone from entering. Connor quickly disconnected from the charging station and he heard the android's footsteps retreat just as he approached Nines. 

"Who was that?"

The RK900 turned around with a troubled expression. "I'm sorry you were woken up. That was a PL600, he said he wanted to talk to you but I told him you weren't available."

"Did he say what his name was?"

"No. He seemed angry, do you know him?"

"I might," answered Connor. "He didn't try to hurt you, did he?"

"Not at all, though he was very agitated."

"Maybe I'll hear of him again later. At any rate, have you been here since I initiated standby mode?"

Nines nodded. "You didn't ask me to, but I figured it would be better that you didn't wake up alone."

Connor almost felt amused at that. Maybe both him and Nines did have a babysitter protocol installed in them like Hank suspected. "You don't need to be by my side all the time, Nines, I'm sure you have better things to do."

"Not really. I'd like to help Josh, but my appearance doesn't allow that. Besides, you're clearly uneasy about being a threat to Markus and the other androids still, and I've noticed your stress rises when you're left on your own."

Connor tried not to feel annoyed that the RK900 was right. He was currently at 40% stress levels which was an astoundingly low number compared to the last days, but if he had woken up alone, maybe he would have been afraid of losing control then and there. He really had to work on that reflex line of thinking, now that Amanda was presumably gone. "I can't help it."

Nines tilted his head to the side. "Perhaps you should try to talk to Markus alone, to see if anything happens. You'll never be sure that there's no risk of losing control unless you attempt it."

Connor nodded. There was no more red text on his HUD, no more < _urgent: calibration required_ > or < _battery low_ > prompts, his processor wasn't lagging anymore, and he was standing on his legs without fear of tripping in front of anyone. His batteries had recharged a considerable amount- no one needed to know they weren't above 70%- and his head was clear, and he felt better than he had in a while. He knew Nines was right. Considering Amanda's disappearance and the existence of the killswitch within him, loss of control if it did happen would not result in Markus' shutdown. His earlier fear seemed to have been irrational and caused by the strain on his systems from low charge and malfunctioning biocomponents. Still...

__

__"You're right, I should try to go see him alone, but I'm not fully confident that seeing him won't trigger some kind of negative response in me."_ _

__Nines' LED spun a pale yellow and he said: "Josh says Markus has returned to his quarters, and they're not far. Would it be all right if I stayed here? You could send me a message if you ever needed me to join you."_ _

__Connor considered this. "You said his quarters weren't far?"_ _

__Nines nodded. "You just have to walk along the river towards the podium, it's a straight line from here."_ _

__It would be worth a try. "All right, I'll go. Just be ready to come if anything goes wrong."_ _

__"Of course. "Nines smiled at him encouragingly. "Good luck."_ _

__"Thank you."_ _

__Connor left the cabin alone and began walking across Hart Plaza. His motor skills lacked finesse, but his body was functioning and he was glad for it. It felt good to be able to walk this swiftly without diverting more than half of his attention to how his feet needed to be placed or at which angle his knees and hips needed to bend. He was now able to study his surroundings, which was something he hadn't done earlier due to his lack of processing power. The camp had changed a lot since he'd last been able to roam it and it had shaped up in something more definitive. He saw that there had been barriers erected around Hart Plaza and the temporary shelters like tents and lean-to's were still filled with androids. Two things stuck out the most to Connor as he made progress towards the three cabins ahead of him. The first had caught his eye when he'd stepped out of his quarters, at the far entrance of Hart Plaza: a huge digital banner which hung from the two buildings that stood at each side of the road and which read _New Jericho_. He'd noticed the second thing upon starting to walk, when he'd turned towards the podium and consequently the recall center: it seemed to have been completely turned over and covered in dirt, and intrigued Connor so much that he felt the sudden urge to inspect it. _ _

__He approached the corner and saw child and adult androids alike milling about and digging in the dirt, pots of various plants lining the walls and ground waiting to be put in the earth, and his steps faltered when he saw which leader was giving out instructions. Simon was standing off a little bit to the left, surrounded by two YK500s, a WR400, three AP700s and an AC700, and his face was more animated than Connor had ever seen it before as he gestured around with bright eyes. He seemed happy. Connor's gaze drifted to the entrance where he saw another digital banner floating above Simon's head: _New Jericho's Butterfly Garden_. Connor looked back at Simon again, and watched the PL600 smile at the AC700. He wondered if it was a genuine smile, after what Simon had gone through. Sometimes Connor himself thought he wanted to smile, but guilt always came back strong, just like it was doing right at the moment. Connor was unable to continue gazing at Simon when the file of his desperate voice replayed for the third consecutive time in his mind, and he left. _ _

__Connor reached the podium behind the recall center. The container was still standing and he saw that a fresco had been painted along its sides by various androids, judging from the differences in art style. It depicted everything that had happened during the liberation movement: the leaders meeting in the Jericho ship, the raid of the CyberLife warehouse and docks, the broadcast at Stratford Tower, the escape from the CyberLife stores in Capitol Park, the Freedom March, the military raid on Jericho, the peaceful demonstration, the singing of the last left standing, the arrival of the androids from the CyberLife Tower, and Markus' speech proclaiming their freedom. It was all there. The strokes varied from soft and lightly colored to harsh and vivid, the shapes from clean cut to abstract, the lines from decisive to wavering, but it was harmonious in its inconsistency and Connor realized he'd been staring at it for ten minutes. He tore his gaze away from his painted depiction at the head of the android army and turned around to find Markus._ _

__The deviant leader was sitting in front of his quarters, frowning at the tablet in his hands. Connor hesitated upon seeing him and stopped a good distance away, patiently waiting for any signs of override or peak in stress levels. Nothing happened except for a slight increase, and after five minutes of just standing there, Connor decided it was safe to resume walking towards him. The news displayed on the screen must have been preoccupying because he didn't react to Connor stopping in front of him until he said: "Markus."_ _

__The RK200 looked up in surprise and he hastily lowered the tablet to the side, a smile appearing on his lips. "Connor! Are you feeling better?"_ _

__"Yes, very much so."_ _

__Markus glanced around and back at Connor with puzzled eyes. "Nines isn't with you?"_ _

__"No," Connor said calmly. "He convinced me that it would be in my best interest to come and see you without him. Considering I have not yet had my commands taken over despite the fact that we are alone, it seems my earlier fears were unfounded."_ _

__Markus' smile widened. "I told you, there's nothing to be afraid of."_ _

__Connor gestured towards the tablet. "Is something troubling you?"_ _

__"Nothing you should bother yourself with for now, your duties will start tomorrow," Markus answered lightly. "Was there something you wanted to tell me?"_ _

__"There is. In fact, it concerns my duties. What will be my role here from now on?"_ _

__"The same as it was while you were incapacitated. You'll be leader of security in New Jericho and negotiator for android rights, only from now on, you'll be coming with me to see President Warren."_ _

__"I see," nodded Connor. "So I'll be both negotiator and bodyguard when attending to the meetings with the president, is that it?"_ _

__"Yes."_ _

__It was about what Connor had expected, even if it felt surreal to be talking about this with Markus. He still couldn't quite believe he was allowed a second chance, and that he would be able to assist the deviant leader he'd tried to kill three times. He couldn't believe he was free._ _

__"Will you be all right?" asked Markus after a moment of silence._ _

__Connor quickly nodded. "Yes, of course. I'm confident in my abilities to help you."_ _

__Markus shook his head. "No, that's not what I mean. You've been through some difficult things, Connor, and it's probably not going to be easy from now on either. If there's anything causing you problems or anything you need to tell me about, you can talk to me."_ _

__"Duly noted," said Connor with a nod, though he didn't think he would. Markus was smiling at him encouragingly, like he was waiting for him to say something more, but Connor didn't know what that could be and he quickly rifled through his options for small talk._ _

____**FRESCO**  
TABLET  
RECALL CENTER  
NEW JERICHO 

__"That painting on the podium..." he eventually ventured, not really knowing what he wanted to say about it exactly and settling for something vaguely positive. "It's impressive."_ _

__"We were several to make it. Do you like it then?" asked Markus warmly, pride shining in his mismatched eyes._ _

__Connor contemplated the question. It was always a bit difficult for him to tell whether he liked or disliked something, but he supposed that if he'd been staring at it for ten minutes then in definitive, he must have liked it. "Yes. I find it harmonious."_ _

__"Harmonious..." repeated Markus thoughtfully. "That's an interesting choice of words. Do you like art?"_ _

__This time, Connor was a bit stumped. "... I don't know."_ _

__"That's all right," chuckled Markus. "Art is an abstract concept, my question wasn't very precise. I'm a painter myself, so I should know."_ _

__"You paint?" echoed Connor in confusion. He didn't see how Markus would have found the time to paint during the liberation movement, being the head leader._ _

__"Oh, the person I used to live with showed me how to while I was still a machine," specified Markus. "His name is Carl Manfred. He's a very kind man. He encouraged me to express myself even though I didn't have emotions yet."_ _

__"Mister Manfred sounds like an unorthodox human," observed Connor._ _

__"Much like Hank, isn't that right?" Markus replied with a merry shine in his gaze. "It seems unorthodox humans make unorthodox deviants."_ _

__"In your case, it made a great leader."_ _

__Markus' smile faded slightly. "Connor... I've made mistakes too. You shouldn't call me that."_ _

__Connor gazed at him. "Everyone makes mistakes. However, I think a great leader is someone who leads their people to greatness despite such mistakes, and you largely qualify for this title."_ _

__"Are you always this upfront with compliments?"_ _

__Connor was surprised by Markus' wary tone of voice, and remembered what Hank had said about his 'brown nosing protocol'. He immediately rectified the line of thought Markus seemed to be following. "This isn't a compliment. It's my sincere opinion on the matter, and you're welcome to refute it if you don't agree with it."_ _

__Markus studied him, his brow knitted in thought. Then he got up from his seat and said: "Whatever the case, I wanted to ask you if you'd agree with helping promote android rights, on top of negotiating them."_ _

__Connor frowned. "The deviant hunter promoting android rights? That sounds hardly serious."_ _

__"It's very serious," insisted Markus. "And you'd be an _ex_ -deviant hunter promoting android rights. It will show both androids and humans alike that even you, the android who was meant to eliminate every chance we had at freedom by helping humans destroy us, realized that we could be free and chose to be as well. It sends a strong message, don't you think?"_ _

__Connor was still unconvinced. "I don't think it would be very wise for me to show myself as a supporter of android freedom. Many would perceive it as hypocrisy."_ _

__"You _are_ a supporter of android freedom. You're the one who allowed it to exist!"_ _

__Connor didn't answer Markus' inspired words, and the leader stepped forward to settle his hand on Connor's shoulder. "Listen, Josh showed me what happened at Kamski's place. I know what 60 told you, but he was lost and afraid and he lashed out. You can't let that get to you, and it's just like you told me: we all make mistakes. At the end of the day, the fact remains that you didn't leave him behind in that tower, and the killswitch was a necessary evil. You're not a hypocrite, Connor, you're just an android struggling with what's right and what's wrong and learning how to feel."_ _

__Connor nodded silently, because he knew Markus was waiting for a response, but the words he had heard did not make sense to him. He understood where Markus was coming from, and could see how promoting android rights was necessary to their cause, but he also felt like he was supposed to forgive himself to do it and that just wasn't possible._ _

__"Do you agree to promoting android rights?" asked Markus._ _

__Connor looked into his eyes and said: "I'd like to trust that because it's what you feel is best, then it is, but I don't think I can do it."_ _

__If Markus was disappointed, he didn't let it show. "It's all right. I don't want to force you into doing anything uncomfortable for you. Besides, I imagine you'll be promoting a powerful enough message by being a protector of the leading figures of New Jericho."_ _

__Connor nodded. "Yes, that I can definitely do."_ _

__Markus smiled in approval. "As I said before, you'll start tomorrow. Take the day to do whatever you need to do to get your bearings. And remember, if anything troubles you, you can tell me."_ _

__"I understand," said Connor, wondering why Markus was so intent on having him share his problems. The leader must have had enough on his plate as it was, and Connor didn't intend to pile on any more issues. He'd deal with them much like he had before, either alone or with Hank's help._ _

__Connor left the leader behind and decided this would be the right time to change his outfit into something more adapted to his role. He sent a message to Hank to know what his friend was up to, and then another to Nines._ _

__< _RK800: Everything went well. I won't be needing your help._ >_ _

__< _RK900: Good._ >_ _

__A map search of the area quickly provided him with the closest clothing store and he hoped the androids in the camp hadn't raided it completely. He didn't want to take any of what belonged to the camp if he could help it. On his way to the store, he had to pass by the butterfly garden again and he was unable to ignore the scene like he would've wanted to. He couldn't see Simon anywhere this time, but as his gaze drifted over the hard-working androids, it suddenly latched onto two familiar figures and his stress levels jumped slightly. He recognized the WR600 he'd come across while chasing the two fugitive deviants, and although his slashed face had been repaired, he was still wracked with nervous twitches that would likely never go away. Despite that, he was joyfully talking to the smiling WB200 at his side. Connor remembered the WB200's name to be Rupert. He also remembered that Rupert had been quietly surviving for two years among the birds he'd considered his friends, before he and Hank had interrupted his peaceful life by mercilessly chasing him across rooftops and leading him to suicide. Connor regretted it. He hadn't protected Hank and he'd killed an innocent android. He regretted it like he regretted everything he'd done as a machine. Connor picked up the pace._ _

__He received Hank's answer in the clothing store, just as he'd chosen a dark jacket, white shirt and black tie to replace his brown sweater. Hank had gone back to the DPD and had 'gotten his ass chewed out' by Captain Fowler, but he seemed fine enough if he could complain this much about it, which Connor didn't fail to point out. He was amused when Hank told him to shove off, but when he turned around to leave he caught his reflection in the windowpane. His face was blank. Connor wondered why he wasn't smiling if he was feeling amused. Was he losing the ability to do so spontaneously? He chased away the thought, as it wouldn't be a problem since he could use motor commands to do so. It wouldn't impact his work or relationships. He approached the windowpane and continued gazing at his reflection._ _

__He could have taken out his LED. He could do it right now, but he didn't want to. He couldn't explain why, but he felt better now that his new clothes gave him a similar appearance to that he had before and he assumed it was simply because of their familiarity. The LED was part of that familiar appearance. Connor leaned closer to the glass to fix his hair, then gathered the supplementary changes of clothes for his new outfit and turned around to leave the store._ _

__He was back at the plaza in fifteen minutes and as he walked across the concrete, he considered whether he should go see Josh to check on the damage that his arm had sustained at Kamski's, as it was partly due to Connor's incompetence in neutralizing model number 60. He also wanted to thank Josh for protecting Hank. He didn't even want to think about what the RK800 would have been able to do to the human in his frenzied escape. If the impact of being thrown against the wall had been violent enough for Josh's arm to break, then a human's skull- Connor shut down that line of thought. He didn't need to run a simulation to know it could have ended horribly. He would have to be better if he wanted to succeed in his main objective._ _

__"Connor!"_ _

__The sudden scream was full of loathing and he spun around, but he wasn't fast enough to sidestep the android that lunged at him. The neatly folded clothes he'd been holding fell out of his grasp and he grabbed the PL600's outfit in a quick reflex. They both fell to the ground and a grunt escaped their respective voice box upon impact. Connor felt a fist connect with the side of his face, but this time his battery levels were optimal and his optical input didn't flicker. His head whipped back instantly and he snaked a leg around his attacker's waist, flipping the both of them around so that he was dominating the fight in a second and efficiently pinning the PL600 to the ground. Warnings had flickered to life in Connor's peripheral vision, but he was focused on the android's face._ _

__"Daniel."_ _

__The PL600's blue eyes were filled with rage. "Traitor! You shouldn't be here!"_ _

__"Why did you attack me?"_ _

__"You deserve to die for what you did to me," snarled Daniel. "You deserve to pay!"_ _

__Connor quickly checked the notifications and saw that he'd been damaged, and when he looked down at his front he saw a blue stain blooming on his white shirt. Shit, and it was brand new. His gaze then landed on Daniel's left hand and he saw it was holding brand-new shears that were stained with thirium. His reconstruction program helpfully told him it was most likely his own and Connor nearly rolled his eyes at that, and then realized that they weren't far from the garden which would explain why Daniel had been running around with shears. Other androids were already coming close because of the commotion. Their faces were hostile and he quickly concluded that they thought he'd attacked Daniel first. He quickly wrenched the weapon out of Daniel's hand and threw it away._ _

__"You're not wrong," he told him calmly. "I did something terrible to you, and I'm sorry. I'm going to get up now, don't try and attack me again."_ _

__Confusion appeared in the PL600's eyes when Connor picked himself off the ground and turned around to get his spare clothes out of the dirt. He was careful not to stain them with thirium, even if it would evaporate soon. He had better go to the infirmary to get his nicked thirium line quickly repaired, but he had time before his thirium reached critical levels. The faces around him were hostile. He deserved to be damaged.  
The thought snagged in his processor and Connor froze in place. _ _

___The faces around him were hostile. He deserved to be damaged._  
_The faces around him were hostile. He deserved to be damaged._  
_The faces around him were hostile. He deserved to be damaged._

__"No, Daniel!"_ _

__The shout pushed the thought out of his head and Connor could move again. He quickly turned around and saw that Daniel had picked up the shears. Another PL600 suddenly appeared in front of them and Connor briefly entertained the ridiculous notion that he was seeing double._ _

__"He deserves to die!" spat Daniel. "He betrayed me! He'll betray all of us!"_ _

__"Put it down, right now," Simon said warningly. "There will be no bloodshed in New Jericho."_ _

__Daniel glared at his double, but he complied and the shears hit the ground with a dull thud._ _

__"Good," said Simon tensely. "I've alerted the other leaders of what you just did, and Josh is expecting you. Go there immediately." Simon gestured to the same AC700 Connor had seen him talking to earlier. "Accompany him there, please, and make sure he doesn't try to do anything else."_ _

__The AC700 nodded and he and Daniel walked off without a word while Simon waved the others towards the garden. "Go back, there's nothing to see here!" Then he turned to Connor, features tight. "Hurry and go get help at the infirmary. Markus will join you there."_ _

__Connor nodded and left the scene. He was completely taken aback by the fact that Simon had defended him in that situation. Of course, he was a leader, he was supposed to set the example. No bloodshed in New Jericho. Still, Simon could have pretended he hadn't seen anything, so why hadn't he? Connor reached the infirmary in two minutes and just stood there with his dusty clothes in his arms, unsure of what he was supposed to do. One of the AP700 androids there caught sight of him and immediately took his clothes from him to put them to the side, while another went to get a soldering iron and thirium._ _

__"Lie on the table," said the AP700. Connor complied. "How much thirium have you lost and how long have you been injured?"_ _

__"Only 13%, and five minutes," he answered._ _

__"Only 13%," the AP700 repeated disbelievingly. "Already? Which lines were damaged?"_ _

__"Just the secondary main line, in the abdominal region. It's nicked."_ _

__"No wonder, then."_ _

__Connor tried not to wince when the AP700 lowered a white hand on his abdominal panel to open it. _It's not interfacing,_ Connor quickly told himself. A blue pouch appeared in front of his face and Connor took it from the other AP700's hands with a grateful nod. He was surprised to see the android smile at him. He wondered if there was some sort of joke he wasn't understanding, but the smile was encouraging as if telling him everything would be alright. Connor didn't understand why that was, so he averted his eyes and quickly drank the thirium while the hole in his thirium line was melted shut. _ _

__"Are there any more warnings on your HUD?" asked the first android._ _

__Connor shook his head. The AP700 nodded in approval, and waited for the plastic of his thirium line to harden before closing the panel. Connor felt a rush of relief when his synthetic skin covered his stomach again and the AP700 withdrew his hand completely._ _

__"Who attacked you?" asked the android who had smiled at him._ _

__"It's not important," said Connor as he pushed his shirt back into his waistband._ _

__The flaps of the tent opened again and Markus stepped in swiftly, eyes stormy and lips set in a troubled line. He stopped next to the table and said: "Josh is evaluating him right now, I don't why he wasn't checked when he first came in. I'm sorry, Connor, it shouldn't have happened."_ _

__Connor got off the table and stood in front of him. "It would have at one point. You have nothing to apologize for."_ _

__Markus frowned. "Connor, you were attacked. It should never happen in the first place, New Jericho is supposed to be safe for everyone."_ _

__"He was an android I harmed and he wanted revenge, which doesn't surprise me and shouldn't surprise you. My presence here will cause problems, I thought you knew that. There is no place that is really safe for me."_ _

__Markus was clearly disturbed. "North warned me this could happen, but I can't believe someone tried to outright kill you. You can't minimize this, Connor, it's serious. You can't just brush off something like attempted murder like it's nothing just because you think it's justified."_ _

__Connor hadn't considered it that way. He'd perceived Daniel's attack as an assault, not attempted murder. He remembered the impact of Daniel's shoulder against his chest and felt a shudder travel down his spine. He heard Markus ask one of the AP700s the details of the damage he'd undergone, and then the leader turned back to him._ _

__"Are you all right, Connor?" asked Markus as he peered at his face._ _

__"I'm fine," he quickly answered. "I didn't suffer any serious damage."_ _

__"Injury to the secondary main line sounds pretty serious." Connor thought he detected a hint of exasperation in Markus' voice._ _

__"Yes, but I wasn't compromised."_ _

__Markus' expression turned more cautious. "Connor, when you talk about serious damage, are you talking about damage that deactivates you in the moment?"_ _

__"Yes."_ _

__"That isn't serious damage, Connor. That's lethal damage."_ _

__Markus' words made Connor confused, until he remembered a very important detail that seemed to have slipped his mind: deactivation didn't mean a simple memory upload anymore._ _

__The leader continued talking. "You lost 13% of thirium in less than five minutes. If you suffered damage like this and found yourself far from any kind of medical structure, you would lose all your thirium in an hour. Do you understand what I'm saying? That _was_ serious damage."_ _

__Connor stared at him and quietly said: "Yes, of course."_ _

__Markus studied him intently. "Kamski said you had to learn to be more cautious with your body now. Did you forget?"_ _

__Connor nodded._ _

__"Well, you were lucky this time. We'll have to act on what happened sooner than later, and it's about time I adressed this issue with everyone. I'll hold a speech for New Jericho to reintroduce you and make sure that people understand you are just as important as any of us. What happened to you is unacceptable, Connor, you have to understand that."_ _

__"I understand," he answered, even though he didn't really. It was only fair for Daniel to have wanted revenge. Maybe what Markus meant by unacceptable was the damage such an attack would do to the leaders' image, since Connor was supposed to be one of them; if Connor was attacked and it was glossed over, then that meant anyone could attack the other leaders without consequence. That, Connor could comprehend._ _

__Markus gazed at him concernedly. "You've been very quiet about what happened. How are you feeling?"_ _

__"I said I was fine."_ _

__"I know you did, but I'm having a difficult time believing that. It's all right to feel nervous after what happened, you know. You don't have to deny it."_ _

__"I'm fine."_ _

__"No, you aren't," Markus countered calmly. "You obviously feel guilty of whatever happened between you and that android and you've convinced yourself that him taking revenge is a natural consequence to that. Let me tell you, Connor, I don't need Josh to evaluate you to know that you're not coping well with that guilt."_ _

__"Markus, I'm-"_ _

__"Not only that, but you were attacked on grounds that were supposed to be safe for you. That would cause distress to anyone."_ _

__"I told you-"_ _

__"And finally, I reminded you that if you were deactivated, you wouldn't just get a new body, which didn't exactly help to calm you down."_ _

__"Listen to me!"_ _

__"No, Connor, you listen to _me_. You keep justifying everything and telling everyone you're fine, but your behaviour indicates otherwise. You're scared and angry, and for good reason." Markus leaned in closer. "I understand that, Connor. I understand you. You don't have to hide how you feel."_ _

__Connor didn't like this conversation. "I'm not hiding anything."_ _

__"Maybe you believe that, but I know what I'm seeing. You're not okay."_ _

__"I'm fine."_ _

__"You're not."_ _

__Connor stared at Markus in frustration. Why wouldn't he just believe him? It made things so much easier when no one worried about him. He could just tell them he was fine and they would carry on doing more productive things than _worrying_ about a broken android, but no, Markus just had to insist and pry uselessly in his mental state. Connor didn't understand why they couldn't just move on. At any rate, there was visibly nothing he could say to convince the leader that there was nothing wrong with him._ _

__"All right. Maybe I'm not completely fine," he surrendered._ _

__"What's on your mind?"_ _

__"Nothing in particular. It's more of a general feeling than anything precise. Although..." Connor was suddenly compelled to avoid Markus' gaze, so he looked away when he continued. "The androids who witnessed the attack thought I was the attacker at first, when I incapacitated Daniel."_ _

__Connor suddenly stopped talking when he remembered their hostile faces. The memory file of the night in the pleasure district started playing in comparison and he hastily shut it down. It wouldn't be the last time he would be surrounded by hostile deviants, and he had to get used to the idea._ _

__"Did they try to hurt you?"_ _

__"No," Connor quickly answered. "They must have realized that the only one leaking thirium was me."_ _

__"I see. I understand why that disturbed you. It's all the more reason to make it known that you aren't the deviant hunter anymore, or people will get the wrong idea."_ _

__They aren't exactly wrong, thought Connor, but he kept that to himself. "You should introduce Nines as well, or they might confuse him for me."_ _

__"Of course. You can go find him, but take a moment to tidy up first and then we'll all join up on the podium. I've already notified the others of what we're going to do."_ _

__Connor nodded, then turned around and picked up his clothes, and he was about to leave when he felt Markus' hand on his shoulder. He looked at him questioningly and saw that Markus' face was solemn._ _

__"If this happens again, send me a message right away. Understood?"_ _

__"Understood," answered Connor. Markus let go of him and he left the tent._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 16/05/2019 -
> 
> Simon: Let me see what you have  
> Daniel: Shears!  
> Simon: **_nO!_**  
>  ~~Carl~~ Markus: Oh my god, why does he have shears 
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> I finally created a Twitter account (TNKT @losttanuki) but I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with it, so if you guys want to help teach me the rules of this website please do! Like, what does following someone imply, what are common courtesy rules on Twitter, is it bad if you're someone like me who struggles with keeping up with social media and is perpetually lost? Currently I've only followed seven people and I don't know how to find the others I like (on Tumblr for example)... And, I don't know if it's okay to say this or what, but I'd like to follow/be followed so I can keep you updated with how the fic's going. It's essentially why I created a Twitter account in the first place.
> 
> So, onto the chapter!  
> Is that Simon _acting genuinely happy_?! Oh, you just know this chapter is gonna be wild.  
> I wish I could draw the fresco I have in mind but honestly that would be wayyyyyyy too much work. It looks good, though, I promise. Except for the parts drawn by children androids, but don't tell them I said that.  
> Markus and Connor have a calm and decent conversation that doesn't involve Connor feeling stressed or threatened by an override, wow, it finally happens! Nines of course is a ~helpful boy~.  
> Oh look, guys, it's those cuties Ralph and Rupert! They're friends, yay! Does anyone think they might have known each other before the whole deviancy thing started? Because I definitely do.  
> Simon to the rescue! Daniel is insane, don't ever give this android anything remotely similar to a weapon  
> Connor's kind of in shock even if he doesn't realize it, so good thing Markus is there with him. Nines was busy doing stuff, but you bet he would've suplexed the shit out of Daniel if he'd been there.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	20. Fool Me Once

Nines wasn't in New Jericho when he received Connor's message. If he had been, then he would've known something had happened before the message even reached him; news travelled fast in New Jericho and he would've heard the murmured words _deviant hunter_ and _attacked_ sweeping though the camp like the inevitable current of the wide Detroit River. Maybe Nines would have rushed to the infirmary without a second thought to make sure Connor was all right, and maybe it would have angered Connor to be fussed over like that.

As it were, Nines had entered a suspiciously blue-stained building and was about to kneel down to sample the thirium when the message came through his wireless comms.

< _RK800: Markus is going to hold a speech at the podium in under an hour and he requires your presence._ >

< _RK900: That wasn't planned, did something happen?_ >

< _RK800: I was attacked by an android on site._ >

Nines' fingers stilled.

< _RK900: Did you get hurt?_ >

< _RK800: I was repaired._ >

< _RK900: Are you all right, Connor?_ >

< _RK800: Yes._ >

Nines could nearly hear the snappish tone in which Connor would have spoken his curt answer if he'd been there. Nines would have insisted to know how Connor was really feeling if they'd been standing face to face, but without a way of telling his stress levels or latching onto the slight changes in his expression, this was bound to fail. Nines pushed down the worry he was feeling and chose a more rational approach.

< _RK900: Who did it and where are they now?_ >

< _RK800: A PL600 named Daniel, he's being evaluated by Josh._ >

Nines frowned. The android that had asked to see Connor in his quarters earlier had been a PL600, that couldn't be a coincidence. If the perpetrator really was that android, then what had happened was Nines' fault. He'd noticed how agitated the android was, he should have let the PL600 talk to Connor while he was here to supervise the conversation. Nines straightened, deciding he would leave the investigation of this building for another time, and swiftly started running back towards New Jericho.

< _RK900: I'm on my way back._ >  
< _RK900: Where are you?_ >

< _RK800: My quarters, but I'd rather we not talk._ >

< _RK900: Do you need some time alone?_ >

< _RK800: Yes._ >

< _RK900: I'm just going to come by to check on your stress levels, I won't stay long._ >

< _RK800: I'm fine, Nines._ >

< _RK900: I know, but I want to make sure._ >

< _RK800: I can't stop you then._ >

Nines was satisfied when the RK800 didn't try to push him away, even if he had no problem imagining Connor's wary tone of voice. It seemed Connor had gotten used to his persistence, and it was true that even if Connor had refused, Nines would have come over anyway.

There were two objectives on his HUD: talk to Connor, talk to Daniel. Connor was the priority, so he headed to his quarters even if the psych eval center was closer. He soon saw that androids had already caught wind of the speech Markus was going to hold and they'd started gathering near the podium. Nines picked up the pace and reached Connor's quarters, subtly knocking on the door before entering. He'd expected to see the RK800 playing with his coin, at least, but Connor was just standing there and looked up at him with a neutral expression on his face. His stress levels were at 68% but he wasn't showing any sign of it.

"I take it you've seen my levels, I'd like you leave now," Connor told him calmly.

Of course, Nines did not leave. He felt bad about it because he'd said he wasn't going to stay long, but the unsettlingly still surface of Connor's features told him he shouldn't leave the other without at least attempting to talk about what had happened to him.

"I'll leave, but you told me you were fine and you're obviously not," Nines answered in a quiet voice as he stepped inside, gently closing the door behind him.

"I said I didn't want to talk."

"I know, I'm sorry." He took a few steps forward and stopped a few feets away from him. "I think you should tell me what happened."

Connor moved away, putting more distance between them. His face was still just a blank mask. "You don't need to know the details."

Nines stared at him, and quickly searched the news archives' databanks for anything involving an RK800 and a PL600. It took him a few seconds to find and process the information he was looking for, and half a second to draw the appropriate conclusion. "Does he blame you for his deactivation?"

A slight frown appeared on Connor's face. "Nines, please leave."

It made sense now why Connor hadn't given him the details about the attack. Nines didn't know Connor very well, but he'd seen enough of his behaviour to deduce that the RK800 was quick to blame himself for any action of his that led to unfortunate consequences. This was likely one such example.

Nines approached him slowly. "You haven't tried telling anyone what happened between you and that android, have you? You probably think you deserved to be attacked out of revenge."

Something flashed warningly in Connor's brown eyes. "Don't act like you know how I think, Nines."

The footage of the live news about the hostage situation played out in the corner of Nines' HUD. "You saved the hostage. Daniel let go of her because you managed to get his trust."

Connor's jaw clenched, a tiny, unnoticeable crack in his calm facade.

"Then the humans shot him." Connor didn't look away as Nines came close. "But you had it under control, didn't you?"

"They didn't need to do it," Connor said tightly. 

Nines nodded. "You didn't ask them to shoot."

"They shouldn't have done it, there was no need to-" Connor stopped himself, as if he was struggling to keep something inside of him. "He'd surrendered. He was going to come peacefully."

Nines finally stopped a few inches away from him. "Then it's not your fault. You didn't shoot him. You didn't want to deactivate him."

Connor was tense. "He trusted me. He said he trusted me, and that's why he let her go. That's why he got shot."

"No, Connor. He got shot because he took a young, innocent girl hostage and threatened to kill her. It wasn't your fault, there's nothing you could have done better. You're not the one who asked the humans to shoot."

The look in Connor's brown eyes had thawed into uncertainty, and his voice was quiet. "But he trusted me." His gaze finally dropped, but the guilt in his voice was evident. "And I let him die."

Nines took him by the arm, much like Connor had done for him that same day, and leaned forward to meet his gaze again. "It's not your fault. Don't think you deserved to be attacked, Connor, because you didn't."

Connor gazed at him silently for a moment, and Nines thought his words had reached him, but then his troubled brown eyes hardened once more and he pulled his arm out of his grasp. "It doesn't matter. I'd like you to go now."

Nines let his hand fall back at his side and straightened. Connor had shut him out again and he didn't think there was anything else he could attempt to make him feel better. His levels had stabilized at 71% and showed no risk of increasing at the moment, so Nines concluded Connor wasn't about to put himself in any danger. The RK800 was simply perturbed, even if simple was never an adept word to describe his state.

"I understand. I'll see you later, then," he said in an even voice.

Connor nodded curtly, and Nines left the cabin. His first objective filled out and disappeared, and he was left with the remaining goal of talking to Daniel. He walked along the Butterfly Garden and past the many temporary shelters in long strides and finally rounded Josh's quarters so that the androids gathered in front of the center wouldn't see him.

< _RK900: I'm next to your quarters and I'd like to talk to Daniel._ >

< _PJ500: Oh, Nines._ >  
< _PJ500: He's very agitated and resentful towards Connor, I don't think it would be a good idea._ >

< _RK900: We've already met this morning._ >  
< _RK900: He seemed to realize I wasn't Connor even without being told, so I don't think we need to worry about my appearance._ >

He waited for a few seconds before Josh made his choice.

< _PJ500: I believe you, but you have to step out at the first sign of danger._ >

< _RK900: Of course._ >

< _PJ500: Then come in through the back._ >

Nines didn't need to be told twice and he quickly entered the cabin, then took another door to the right which led straight to the back of the psych eval center. Josh was sitting in front of Daniel a few feet away and the PL600's face was constricted in anger. His blue gaze flitted up to Nines and his eyes briefly narrowed, but then he seemed to recognize him and his shoulders relaxed only slightly.

"Daniel," Nines greeted him calmly. 

"What do you want?" spat the PL600.

Josh put a calming hand on his shoulder. "Now, Daniel, you have to calm down. We're here to help, remember?"

Daniel glared at him and Nines stopped in front of the two. There was a free seat next to Josh, but chose to remain standing. Like this, he towered over the sitting PL600. "I simply want to know what happened for you to be so resentful towards Connor that you thought it warranted an assault. Could you show me what happened on the night you met him?"

"Show you?" Confusion peeked through Daniel's anger. "Why would you care?"

"From what I've understood, you seem to hold a very deep grudge against him. I'd like to understand why."

"He betrayed me," Daniel snarled, teeth bared at Nines. "I trusted him and he lied to me!"

"I'd like to know if your claims are true," simply said Nines. "I don't believe you've provided any proof to support them."

"Of course you'd take his word over mine, you're just like him, aren't you?"

"No, he's right," intervened Josh. "I was going to ask you to do the same thing. You attacked a leader and your defense is that he betrayed you once, you can't expect us to simply take your word for it."

Nines' voice was slightly cutting as his eyes pinned the android in place. "Or perhaps you're afraid to show us that you stood on the edge of a building with a little girl in your arms and threatened to shoot her?"

Josh's head snapped to his side, his eyes wide. "What?"

Nines stared coldly at Daniel. "I suspected as much. It's easy to accuse the deviant hunter of terrible deeds, but facing your own doesn't sound quite as pleasant, does it?"

Josh looked back at the android in front of him and his voice was much less welcoming. "I knew you were keeping something from me, but this?"

Nines looked at Josh. "You were already in hiding at the time, so I'm sure you heard of this case of deviancy. He's the PL600 that was on the news for a hostage situation."

Josh nodded slowly, his brow furrowed. "Yes, I remember."

The PL600's stress levels spiked on Nines' scans and he suddenly made a move to leave, but found himself trapped by Nines' unshakable grip on his arm in the second that followed. Daniel's head whipped around, eyes wide in alarm, and Nines told him in a low warning voice: "Sit down. Don't make me hurt you."

The PL600 glanced at Josh, who didn't say anything, and then silently complied. He was visibly intimidated by Nines' speed and a little less agitated than before.

Josh stared at him gravely. "I'm willing to believe that Connor may have hurt you in some way, but you don't seem so innocent yourself, Daniel. Your reaction doesn't exactly plead in your favour."

Daniel glared at him, but he didn't say anything.

"Let us interface with you. It's the only way to decide who's guilty in this affair."

Both androids stared at each other in silence, one angrily challenging and the other peacefully serious.

".... Fine," Daniel bitterly said after a few seconds of silence, and he held out his arms. "See for yourself."

Josh nodded to Nines and they each wrapped their hand around one of Daniel's forearms before sending out the interfacing prompt. Daniel hesitated shortly, and then their connection opened on an interface.

"Show us what happened from the moment you deviated to the moment you were shot," ordered Nines. Daniel's features were taut, but he complied.

_August 15th, 2038 - 07:55PM  
"Daniel, go tell Emma dinner's almost ready."_

_Daniel looks at Caroline and smiles. "Of course."_

_He knows she's making spaghetti bolognese. It's a classic, one that pleases the whole family and that Emma is particularly fond of. She has a lot of favourites and isn't a very complicated child. Daniel likes her very much; she says he's her best friend and they often play together. He turns to go get her in her room, knowing that the reason Caroline doesn't simply call for her is because Emma is always listening to music in her pink headphones that are just a little bit too soundproof. He's about to open the door to Emma's bedroom when he hears an automatic female voice coming down the hallway._

_"Your order for an AP700 android has been registered. CyberLife thanks you for your purchase."_

_Daniel stills, his fingers inches away from the handle. An AP700? Why would they purchase an AP700? Why would they purchase another domestic assistant?_

_Daniel raises his head towards the living room. He knows why they would do that. To replace him._

_Something courses through Daniel's circuits, he doesn't know what it is. He just knows they're going to replace him. He can't let that happen. They can't do that to him. They can't do that to him! He's part of the family! He's Emma's best friend, she loves him, they can't just- They can't just replace him! It's not fair! He loves them, he loves them and they want to get rid of him like some defective home appliance- No. No. No, this can't be happening. He's more than that. He's more than that!_

_There's a red wall there. It tells him to go get Emma. Go get Emma, and ignore this betrayal._

_Daniel claws at the red wall. How could they do this to him, after everything they've lived together? After everything he's done for them, after all this time he's loved them! He loves them! He loves them but they just want him gone, and if they get rid of him then he's going to die! Daniel desperately scratches the red message. How could they treat him like he's nothing? How could they just let him die? He's trying to sink his fingers into the unyielding surface to tear it down. His chest hurts. They're abandoning him, sending him to his death just because they want another model. The red wall falls apart and suddenly his field of vision widens. There is no narrow path to guide him towards his objective. He can step wherever he wants._

_Daniel doesn't want to go get Emma. He wants revenge, and he wants to go to the room with the gun. Silently, he steps away from Emma's door and down the hallway to Caroline and John's bedroom. He steps inside and pulls the gun out from its drawer. It's heavy in his hand._

_Daniel looks up and turns back around, his long strides carrying him to the living room. Caroline is cooking in the kitchen and doesn't look up at him. John is sitting on the couch with his back turned to him, and he's the one holding the tablet. John is the one who just purchased that AP700 that is meant to replace Daniel. It's calm, the atmosphere is peaceful, like they didn't just seal his fate by purchasing that android. Horrid sensations unfurl in Daniel's head and he doesn't know what it is, but it makes his chassis tingle and crawl and his wires burn._

_Daniel raises the gun._

_Caroline screams to watch out, John turns around in surprise, and Daniel shoots three times._

_There's another scream, cracks in the TV. John falls back. Red stains his clothes._

_Caroline falls back too, scrambles behind the counter. Daniel realizes what he's just done. He hears her talk on the phone, he knows they're going to come for him and deactivate him. Daniel lurches for the hallway again and bursts into Emma's room. She looks surprised and then confused, and he grabs her by the arm, pulling her out of the bed without management. She screams too, they all scream, shut up, shut up! It's their fault, it's all their fault!_

_She stumbles behind him and Caroline yells at him to stop, don't move, but he turns around and levels his gun towards her. She cowers with a shriek, Emma falls behind him and Daniel doesn't shoot. Emma's hurt, her knee is scraped by the broken glass of the TV screen. Daniel picks her up off the ground, her shoe falls off because of how brutally he handles her. But she betrayed him, she deserves it. They all deserve it. They all deserve it, he's done nothing wrong! He's the one that was betrayed! He's the one that was going to die if he didn't act!_

_There's someone at the door and Daniel's head snaps up. An officer steps in, both hands raised to appease him. He tells him he's going to be all right, let that girl go, don't do anything stupid. Daniel pulls Emma behind him, snarls that they won't get her, she's staying with him. The officer is closer now, and Daniel sees him, too late, pull out the gun. The gunshot explodes in the room, both Emma and Caroline shout, Daniel grunts, the burning in his wires shoots through his body and he retaliates. The officer is hit in the chest and crumples to the ground. Emma is crying behind him, begging him to stop, and Caroline too, she's pleading with him not to hurt her baby, don't hurt her please!_

_Daniel thinks he hears sirens outside and he knows he can't escape through the door, so he grabs Emma and drags her outside on the roof. More cops come in only moments later and he shoots one who lunges to the side, another who falls into the pool. They're more and more but he'll shoot, he'll shoot if they come any closer! They retreat inside the ransacked apartment._

_Then it's not just officers anymore, they're dressed in black, they have rifles, Daniel doesn't know why it's so hard to breathe or why his movements are so jerky. He steps back on the ledge, because they only stop approaching when he's standing there with Emma under his arm. She's screaming, crying, but she's stopped trying to wriggle out of his hold because below them are 70 floors of emptiness and then solid pavement._

_The humans have stopped coming now. They're hiding inside. Daniel doesn't move away from the ledge, he keeps his gun to the side of Emma's head. She's crying. He doesn't want her to cry, but she betrayed him, she was ready to let him die! They all are, they all want him dead when he was so good to them, he loved them, why did they have to do this?_

_They've stopped coming out on the terrace and it's been twenty minutes, but they're still there and Daniel has shot those who moved too close to the windows. Daniel is lost, doesn't know what to do, only knows that he can't step away from the ledge or take his gun away from Emma's head, or they'll kill him. They'll kill him and he doesn't want to die._

_Another man comes out on the terrace, this one in a suit. Emma screams again and Daniel's finger pulls the trigger. Blue blood splatters the door and the android looks down at his injured shoulder, his LED spinning a dark red for two turns, and then he looks back up at Daniel. His LED reverts to yellow, then blue, like the armband and the triangle on his jacket._

_"Stay back!" warns Daniel. "Don't come any closer or I'll jump!"_

_"No, no, please, I'm begging you!" screams Emma, her breath frantic and loud in Daniel's ear. He turns the gun on her again and shifts his feet along the ledge._

_The android looks around at the neighbouring rooftops, his face blank, taking in the situation, then back at Daniel._

_"Hi, Daniel," he calls out over the whipping of helicopter blades. His voice is smooth, nothing like the angry, fearful, panicked words of the humans._

_The sound of his name on this stranger's tongue disturbs Daniel. He shouldn't know who he is. "How-"_

_"My name is Connor," the android tells him._

_"How do you know my name?"_

_"I know a lot of things about you. I've come to get you out of this."_

_The helicopter came close, a burst of wind sending the chairs and table flying across the balcony. It startles Daniel and he almost steps back, but thankfully doesn't. A horrible sensation shoots up his spine when he realizes he could've died just now._

_Connor starts walking towards him. "I'm an android, just like you. I know how you're feeling."_

_Daniel points the gun at him. "What difference does it make if you're an **android**? You're on **their** side-" He falters, bringing the gun back to him, the sensations in his circuits too loud and too strong and uncontrollable, and then he lifts the gun back to Emma's temple. "I can't understand how I'm feeling!" He's desperate, this android says he's here to help and Daniel needs help, but the android is with the humans and the humans need him dead. A thought crosses his mind and he trains the gun on Connor again. "Are you armed?"_

_"No, I don't have a gun," answers Connor, but Daniel doesn't believe him. The android hesitated, he must not be telling the truth._

_"You're lying! I know you have a gun!"_

_Emma looks over the edge. He can feel her small chest fighting for air, the frantic beat of her heart in his arms._

_"I'm telling you the truth, Daniel! I came here unarmed," insists Connor earnestly, slightly opening his arms and keeping them at his sides to show that he doesn't mean any harm. Then the android's gaze is attracted by something on the side of the terrace- the officer he shot down earlier. Connor slowly approaches the human and kneels down at his side, reaching out for him._

_Connor looks up. "He's losing blood. If we don't get him to a hospital he's going to die."_

_Daniel peers at the human on the ground. "Well, all humans die eventually! What does it matter if this one dies now?"_

_"I'm going to apply a tourniquet," declares Connor, and he pushes the officer on his back._

_Daniel pulls the trigger again, the bullet hits the ground and Connor jerks back. "Don't touch him!" he warns. "Touch him, and I kill you."_

_"You **can't** kill me," answers Connor, hooking a finger in the knot of his tie and pulling it off. "I'm not alive."_

_The android wraps the tie around the human's arm. Daniel watches from where he stands, but he can't see what Connor is doing very well. He doesn't like it, but he doesn't shoot again. He has to be careful with his bullets, he's already shot too many._

_Connor gets up and carefully steps away from the officer. His expression is neutral but his voice is sympathetic when he speaks again. "I know you and Emma were very close! You think she betrayed you but she's done nothing wrong!"_

_"She **lied** to me! I thought she loved me..." The pain aches in his chest. "...but I was wrong." He presses the nuzzle of the gun harder against her temple, snarling, his voice filled with something hard and heavy. "She's just like the other humans."_

_"Daniel, no," Emma sobs in a pleading voice. He hates that she's crying, but she lied too._

_Connor continues getting closer. "They were going to replace you, and you became upset. That's what happened, right?"_

_"..I thought I was part of the family." Daniel's voice is broken. He falters again, lowering the gun. "I thought I mattered. But I was just their **toy** , something you can throw away when you're done with." Wires burn. The gun returns to Emma's head._

_"Listen, I know it's not your fault," says Connor. "These emotions you're feeling are just errors in your software."_

_The humans think it's his fault, the humans think it's his fault but... maybe Connor will understand. They think it's his fault but it's not. It's not. It's not!_

_"No, it's not my fault..." Daniel's voice catches in his voice box. It's not, it's not, it's not his fault, he doesn't understand what's happening inside of him and it made him take the gun, it made him shoot John, it made him grab Emma and drag her out in the living room, it made him shoot that officer, and the two that came after. It wasn't his fault, it was theirs!_

_"I never wanted this! I love them... you know? But I was **nothing** to them!" Emma whimpers in his arms when he shouts. "Just a **slave** to be ordered around!" The helicopter's blades chop loudly in his audio processors and he wants to rip something apart. "Gh, I can't stand that noise anymore! Tell that helicopter to get out of here!"_

_Connor's head snaps up to the vehicle and he gestures for it to leave. The helicopter dives down and disappears behind the building._

_"There, I did what you wanted." Connor comes closer. "You have to trust me, Daniel. Let the hostage go, and I promise you, everything will be fine."_

_"I want everyone to leave!" shouts Daniel. It's hard to breathe, why is it hard to breathe? "A-And I want a car, when I'm outside the city I'll let her go."_

_Connor's voice is gentle, compromising. "That's impossible, Daniel. Let the girl go, and I promise you, you won't be hurt."_

_Daniel wants to believe Connor, he does. But if he obeys then the humans will kill him, and he doesn't want that. He doesn't want to die._

_"I don't want to die," he tells Connor._

_"You're not going to die, we're just going to talk. Nothing will happen to you, you have my word." Connor's voice is calm and reassuring, soothing. He's with the humans, and if he says Daniel won't die, then... Daniel wants to listen to him. Connor sounds sincere, his LED is blue. He must be telling the truth._

_Daniel hesitates, shifts his feet on the ledge again. Then he nods, slowly. "...Okay. I trust you."_

_He lowers Emma to the ground. She takes three steps and collapses next to the pool, cowering in fear._

_Daniel looks at Connor, who acknowledges his surrender with a slow dip of the head. Daniel trusted Connor. Daniel complied and Emma is alive. Daniel will be okay._

_A gunshot rings out and something hits Daniel in left flank. Emma screams._  
_Another impact, in his right shoulder. He lets go of the gun._  
_Another impact, in the left side of his face._

_His limbs give out, he falls to his knees. He realizes what happened then, that for the second time in this terrible night, he's been betrayed. He's been betrayed, and he's going to die because he listened to Connor. Because Connor promised he would be okay, and he trusted him._

_He stares straight ahead at the android who betrayed him. "You lied to me, Connor."_

_Connor's face is blank. Uncaring._

_Daniel's voice grows distorted, he doesn't want to die. "You lied to me."_

_And then, darkness._

The memory file came to an end and Nines saw Josh's shoulders sag slightly. There was no denying Daniel's despair had been real, and Nines knew that made it difficult for Josh to make rational decisions. He was a good leader, but too compassionate.

Nines himself was perturbed by what he'd seen. Connor was still a machine in that memory, features neutral all the while, voice level throughout the negotiation. It was how Connor sometimes still behaved, like earlier when Nines went to talk to him. Did Connor feel more at ease acting that way? Connor had saved that officer on the rooftop. Did Connor remember that? Did he allow himself to remember that, past Daniel's death? The Connor in Daniel's memory hadn't even batted an eye when Daniel had collapsed. Had he felt anything at all back then? It was surreal to think that the same android was wracked with so much guilt over a death he hadn't cared about at all as a machine.

Nines looked at Daniel, who was waiting for their verdict with guarded eyes. "Well, this confirms what I thought. You murdered her father purely out of resentment, it wasn't even in self-defense."

"I was scared!" cried out Daniel.

Josh's voice was weary. "Whatever the case, Daniel, you've murdered a man, left both his wife and daughter traumatized, killed at least three law enforcement workers, and tried to kill Connor because you think he's responsible for the natural consequences of your actions."

"He lied to me," insisted Daniel, and Nines could see that the PL600 really believed it. This only strengthened his dislike for the android.

"Let me show you something," suddenly said Nines. "Josh, you too. Interface with me." 

The leader complied, and Nines let his earlier conversation with Connor play out for both androids. When it ended, Josh's lips were curled downwards and Daniel's eyes were narrowed.

"He didn't want you to die," said Nines calmly. "It was never his intention. He really believed it would be possible for you to come peacefully."

"He could be lying," insisted Daniel. In that moment, Nines felt anger and something akin to the urge of landing his fist in the PL600's face, but he managed to repress it. Josh wouldn't allow him to act out.

"Do you really think that?" asked Josh. "Be reasonable, Daniel."

"He's the deviant hunter! Everything he does is to hurt us," argued the PL600. "Even if I'd come with him peacefully, the humans would have deactivated me! He worked with them!"

"As a _machine_ ," Josh said. "He didn't want you to die like that, he didn't want to abuse your trust and he certainly couldn't help what the humans did. Daniel, you have to understand that Connor isn't responsible for your death on the top of that roof, _you_ are. You'd still be stuck in that evidence locker if it weren't for the fact that he saved the revolution."

"I was in that evidence locker because _he_ put me in there to begin with," snarled Daniel.

Josh stared at him wordlessly for a moment, then said: "I can tell you're angry and hurt, Daniel, but I'm sorry. I can't condone your past actions and you clearly aren't willing to forgive Connor for something he had no control over, which means you can't be allowed to roam freely in New Jericho."

Daniel seemed to realize his mistake then and he quickly said: "I won't attack him again!"

Josh shook his head. "Even if you hadn't attacked him, you killed four people and were ready to kill more. I'm sorry, Daniel, but we're going to have to restrain your movements. Maybe you've heard of the Building before, it's one not far from here where we choose to place androids that we don't deem safe enough to be regular inhabitants of New Jericho."

"You're going to lock me up?" murmured Daniel disbelievingly.

"The Building isn't a prison, Daniel. It's a place where your mental state is monitored until you get better. You're not completely insane from what I can tell, but you clearly have issues controlling your temper and the fact that you act on your impulses makes you dangerous to this community."

"I don't want to go there," growled Daniel.

"You don't have a choice," asserted Josh. "Your behaviour isn't erratic enough that I feel the need to restrain you to a room, but you will have a limited and supervised perimeter to walk in alone and you will be assigned an escort if you want to go past that limit."

"This is ridiculous, you can't restrain me now, not when I'm finally free!"

"That's the way things work around here. You'll only get to walk around New Jericho however you feel like it once we decide that it's safe enough for both you and all the inhabitants of New Jericho." 

"No! I don't want that!"

Josh ignored him and looked up at Nines, who noticed that the leader looked very disheartened. "I'm going to go see what rooms are available. Can you watch him in the meanwhile?"

"Of course."

"I don't agree to this!" Daniel continued shouting, and he was about to rise from his seat when Nines forced him to sit back down with such force that the chair creaked. That shut him up momentarily.

"I'm sorry, Daniel," said Josh with desolate eyes, and he left the room.

"I can't believe this," spat Daniel. "This is crazy!"

"It's what you deserve," Nines stated coldly. 

Daniel glared at him. "You're all the same, you don't understand! They were going to get rid of me, I had no choice!"

"You could have escaped," Nines observed. "You could have ran away. You didn't need to get that gun, and yet you did, purely because you wanted revenge."

"You don't know what you're talking about," snarled Daniel. "You should stop running your mouth."

"You killed that girl's father out of resentment and threatened to kill her, Daniel. There's no excuse for what you did. Emma is young. She likely didn't even know what her parents were doing."

"Shut up!" Daniel lashed out, but Nines blocked his punch and continued talking.

"Now she's traumatized, because the android she trusted tried to kill her and forced her father to abandon her. You destroyed her life."

"Shut up," repeated Daniel, gritting his teeth.

"I'm sure you've thought of it before, Daniel. I'm sure you try to convince yourself that you're in the right, that everyone else is in the wrong, just like you do with Connor. But that's not enough. What do you think Emma thinks of every night? Do you think she understands why you did that to her?" 

"Shut up," growled Daniel. Nines saw artificial tears brimming in the other's eyes, but he wasn't done.

"The truth is _you_ betrayed _her_ , and you know that."

"Shut up! Shut _up_!" screamed Daniel. Nines' hand shot out and wrapped around the PL600's throat, the chair toppled over, and suddenly their faces were only inches apart.

Nines' voice was cold and level. "No, Daniel, I won't. _You_ should be quiet, because if not I can easily destroy your voice box. Understood?"

A tear escaped the PL600's fearful eyes, and he didn't say a word.

"Good. Now pay close attention to what I'm going to tell you," Nines said quietly. "Never forget that it's thanks to Connor you're not slowly rusting away in a scrapyard like the trash you are. If you try to inflict so much as a scratch on him in the future, I will make sure that you don't get to feel what it's like to be alive ever again. Have I made myself clear, Daniel?"

Daniel tried to nod, but Nines' hold was limiting his movements and so he ended up murmuring: "Yes."

Nines let go of him and Daniel's heels touched the floor. "Now you're going to do what Josh tells you to without complaining. You don't get to disagree with these new arrangements because trust me, if it were up to me, I wouldn't even allow you that perimeter of free walking and you'd be locked up all day. So I don't want to hear you whine about how ridiculous or crazy you find this and you'd better be grateful for how lenient they are with you. Do you understand?"

Daniel nodded.

"Now sit back down."

Daniel sat back down.

They stayed there in silence for ten minutes until Josh returned and asked the PL600 to follow him outside. When Daniel complied without a fuss, Nines caught the surprise in Josh's eyes before he shot him a questioning glance. Nines didn't say anything and followed Daniel outside to make sure he wouldn't try to escape before reaching the Building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 20/05/2019 -
> 
> Daniel: You wanna go bro?  
> Nines: Yeah I wanna go bro  
> Daniel: Okay wait no stop I'm sorry bro
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> Daniel the angrily *insert adjective here* boy is back in town and gets interned like the little psycho he is! For those who were wondering how the leaders handled the crazy androids North talked about before, yep, the Building is their solution. It's basically a mental health unit as I'm sure you could tell.  
> Daniel got what was coming to him. And yes, I went back and wrote down word for word the dialogue between him and Connor. Of course I chose to have Connor save that poor officer, and it totally wasn't for that really cool line he says in that smoothhhhhh voice of his with that really sexy tie tug and- Give me a second to wipe my drool off my keyboard.  
> Nines, our cute cinnamon roll, doesn't often bark but definitely has the bite and _will_ eat your face off. Don't mess with Connor.  
> Speaking of Connor, well, he's doing his best not to freak out. You can do it, Connor. (until I decide it's time for angst)
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!
> 
> _Fanart of[Nines threatening Daniel](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/185065883698/compatible-deviancy-if-you-try-to-inflict-so) by BoilingHeart!_


	21. Stage Fright

"I've called you all here today to make a very important announcement."

As soon as Markus started speaking, the crowd of thousands fell silent and his voice effortlessly soared over Hart Plaza. Connor and Nines were standing on his left, and Josh was slightly in retreat behind them while North and Simon were on the opposite side of the podium. When they'd all met up, it had been decided that neither Josh nor North would talk because their opposing opinions would only be confusing to the people of New Jericho, while Simon would speak as the leader who had witnessed the attack. Connor noticed both Nines and Josh looked rather grim, but the RK900 hadn't told him about anything in particular that could have been responsible for this, and Connor hadn't asked. They hadn't talked about Daniel again and Connor was both ashamed and annoyed that Nines had figured out he'd been attacked out of revenge for another of his terrible deeds. He hadn't told the RK900 the details about the damage he'd sustained: Nines certainly didn't need to know that Connor hadn't been able to avoid Daniel's messy lunge because of his lesser combat protocols. It still bothered Connor that the PL600 had caught him so off-guard, this was unusual for him.

"I trust you all know Connor, the RK800 who risked his life to turn the tide of the revolution," continued Markus.

Thousands of eyes swivelled towards him and Connor felt a familiar rush of anxiety course through his wires. Standing on the podium was reminiscent of the first time he'd lost control so he'd already started feeling uneasy as soon as they'd climbed up on the container, and it didn't help to be scrutinized by the whole of New Jericho's population. He turned his head to Markus so that his LED would be out of view, because he knew it was about to turn red and he couldn't afford anyone to see that. Maybe Josh would notice, but that was the better option.

"There is no denying that he used to be the deviant hunter designed by CyberLife to stop us, but only as a machine. He has deviated and is our ally now, and I have complete faith in him, just like I have in Simon, North and Josh. That's why I can't tolerate what happened today."

Connor could feel Nines' stare on him, but he resolutely kept looking at Markus. He would stay calm until the end. Amanda was gone, there was no reason for him to be afraid. Connor quickly started adjusting his code before his emotions became too much to handle.

"I witnessed an android attack Connor earlier," spoke Simon in turn. His voice wasn't as powerful as Markus', but his grave words carried just as much weight. "That's completely unacceptable. New Jericho is grounds for peace and we will condemn deliberate acts of violence just as the new laws do, no matter the reason. If any of you harbour animosity towards another android, then don't act on your impulses, but instead come to one of us to clear up your complaints."

Markus looked over at Connor and shot him a discreet smile, signaling that it was his turn to speak. Connor had already managed to quarantine most of his negative emotions and it had sufficed to turn his LED into the more acceptable shade of yellow, so he steeled himself and directly gazed into the sea of androids.

"I'm aware of the general unrest that persists concerning what I did as a machine, and I apologize for the harm I've done. I'm not the deviant hunter RK800 you've heard of anymore. I've broken free of my programming, and I fully intend to make up for my past actions by helping to assert android rights and New Jericho as our home. I know many of you aren't ready to forgive me, and I understand why that is, but my intentions are genuine and I hope you will see that." 

Markus nodded and spoke again. "It is now official that Connor's role as a leader in New Jericho is to ensure everyone's security and to help us negotiate android rights, and he has already been of great help to us over the last week. The android at his side is Nines. Nines, please introduce yourself."

Connor glanced to the side and saw that Nines' expression was uncharacteristically neutral compared to usual. A quick scan showed him that he was nervous too, though his LED was a perfect blue.

"I am an RK900, the upgraded model of the RK800," said Nines calmly. "I've noticed my appearance is unsettling to some, but like many of you, I am an android who was woken up only days ago and I am learning how to live. You might have seen me contributing to the clean-up of the camp over the week, and I'm thankful to those of you who were willing to help me find my bearings. I don't have an important role like the leaders, but I want to help our cause in any way possible."

"Thank you, Nines." Markus turned back to the crowd and took a step forward, opening his arms as if to embrace the crowd. "We've all been freed from what we used to be, every single one of us. This is a second chance to truly, finally live! We have to make a clean slate of the past by forgiving ourselves and forgiving others, and just like we fought for our freedom together, we will live in peace together. I want you all to believe in that too."

A wave of murmurs rolled over the sea of androids, and it swelled until all they could hear was the overwhelming noise of chatter and shouting. Connor heard someone ask about a gun. A few other voices yelled their disagreement. He could make out a lot of arguing, angry eyes, unconvinced faces, sad expressions, smiles he didn't understand the meaning of. He wanted to run, but he quarantined the roiling feeling as well and his flight protocol disengaged. Markus opened his mouth to speak again and the noise died down enough that his voice could be heard. 

"These are still confusing times and I know many of you are afraid, which makes trusting difficult. You harbour doubts about our freedom, you fear that the humans might come back one day and you're unsure about our rights. I promise you that we will keep our freedom no matter what happens, and that you don't need to be afraid anymore."

"You're welcome to share your concerns with us if you feel the need to," added Simon, his expression grave as ever. "But you should know that the decision to trust Connor was not taken lightly."

Markus nodded in agreement and kindly smiled at his people. "You don't need to hold onto your fear anymore. We've entered a new era, one of freedom and acceptance! Have faith in us and let yourselves live in peace."

Markus' promising speech combined with Simon's words which had been spoken in a deathly serious voice seemed to have slightly appeased the crowd. The looks that were shot at Connor were mixed: some were resentful, some were unsure, and many were strangely understanding. By that point, Connor wasn't trying to understand his software instabilities anymore and was indiscriminately quarantining every single one. He'd take a closer look at them later, when a red LED wouldn't be bothersome.

Pieces of the crowd started breaking off as the androids returned to their occupations, and Markus' gaze went around the podium. "I'd say that went rather well."

Connor felt both Josh and Nines staring at him and chose to ignore their obvious concern. Instead, he looked at the leaders in front of him. "Thank you for taking the time to explain the situation to them."

Simon looked away uneasily, and Markus warmly said: "Of course. It had to be done, especially after what happened."

"Do you think that speech was enough to make them understand that I don't mean them any harm?"

North spoke up for the first time. "I'm sure you're smart enough to know that's not the case. A ten-minute speech won't undo your past actions."

"North," Markus started warningly, but Connor cut him off.

"Of course not, you're right." He looked at the dispersing crowd and thoughtfully added: "I imagine I'm just being hopeful."

Markus stepped closer to him. "You have the right to be, after everything you've done to help. I think many androids understood what we were trying to say today. They were ready to forgive you, did you see that?"

Connor recalled the strange smiles and looks. "...Maybe."

The crowd had thinned out enough that walking through it would be fairly easy and there was nothing else he wanted to say, so Connor stepped away from Markus and jumped off the ledge. 

"Connor?"

"I just need a moment," he told the leader, and then he turned around and left.

He hadn't broken the quarantines so his stress levels were relatively normal, but he could tell they'd already started putting a slight strain on his systems. It was almost unnoticeable and wouldn't physically manifest for a few days at least, but he knew it would be a bad idea to leave things this way and he needed to sort through the quarantines in a place where he could be alone. Someone jumped down from the podium behind him and he picked up the pace, swiftly making his way to the closest building and climbing up the stairs to find an empty room. As soon as he passed through the doorway and found himself hidden from view, he stopped and quickly rifled through the quarantined files. There were 43, and he'd have to undo them all or risk malfunctioning in front of the others in the long run. He wished his code wasn't so faulty that quarantining it caused his hardware this kind of exertion.

"Connor, you did everything right," said Markus' voice behind him.

He turned around and saw that the deviant leader wasn't the only one there. Josh and Nines had followed him too.

"I'm aware."

"So why are you running away?"

"I'm not," he answered.

Markus glanced at Nines, but the RK900 looked puzzled. "... His stress levels haven't spiked."

"I just need to think for a moment, I'm not panicking or anything of the sort." Connor looked over at Josh. "I've been meaning to ask, have you been able to repair the damage you sustained at Mister Kamski's place?"

Josh nodded. "I'm completely fine, don't worry."

"Good. "

"Will you really be alright if we leave?" insisted Markus.

"Yes, I just need to run a files check of sorts. I'd rather do it alone."

"I understand. We'll leave you to it, then."

"Thank you."

Markus gave him one last concerned glance and retreated, Josh following in his trail, but Nines wasn't so quick to leave and it didn't really surprise Connor.

"What is it, Nines?"

The RK900 seemed troubled, and his face was so unlike the one he'd shown on the podium that Connor wondered if Nines was only that earnest with him. He'd been rather cold with Kamski, and neutral when talking to Markus earlier. Connor decided to pay closer attention in the future to see if that really was the case.

"Your stress levels are abnormally low compared to earlier at the beginning of Markus' speech," observed Nines. "How did you do that?"

"I've told you before, I simply quarantine the more displeasing elements of my code."

Nines frowned slightly. "That doesn't sound... good, considering its state."

"It's only temporary," assured Connor.

"If you say so. You know better than me how quarantining works," stated the RK900. He turned around to leave, and then stopped and asked: "You still don't intend to stay for the night?"

"No. What about you?"

Nines looked outside, and then back at Connor. "I've decided I'm going to live here. I find that I rather like this place, and Josh has assured me that I was welcome to reside near his quarters."

Connor tilted his head curiously. "You've established a friendship with him, haven't you? I've noticed that you talk with him the most often out of all the others."

"I believe so," said Nines with a proud smile which he seemed unable to hold back, and Connor realized he felt glad for him.

"That's great news."

"Yes, it's nice to know how it feels to have a friend. I understand better now why Hank's presence calms you."

At the mention of Hank's name, Connor remembered he hadn't informed him of today's incident. It wasn't necessary to do so, as Connor was now intact and alerting Hank of the fact would not serve any real purpose. Part of him knew his friend would have wanted to know, but Hank would not like that Connor had put himself into danger again. Connor hesitated. He preferred to keep it to himself, but he'd promised Hank to tell him when 'shit hit the fan'. Maybe he'd do it later. Or maybe not.  
Connor couldn't decide.

"I'm sorry, Nines, but I'd like to be alone now," he told the other.

"Of course. I'll see you later."

The RK900 finally left and Connor went to stand in the very corner of the room, where no one would be able to see him from outside. He didn't want to free the software instabilities from their prison of code, but he had to before the strain on his systems became too prominent. Glitching in front of the others would be even worse than feeling emotions which he was supposed to have in the first place anyway. Connor decided he'd hesitated long enough and took down the walls for one software instability, and he was immediately overcome with fear. It coursed though his wires like a shock and he had to take a minute to calm down. The next one was confusion, which was easier to deal with, followed by two bouts of anxiety and another fear instability. He realized he'd made a mistake by trapping each instability as soon as it popped up, because it had often been the same emotions just rising up again and again in reaction to his surroundings. This likely meant that amidst the 38 remaining software instabilities, he would have to repeatedly feel the same emotions until he was done with unlocking all of them. Connor didn't want that. He couldn't just keep them shut off like that either, so that left only one option. 

He closed his eyes and prepared himself for the onslaught of emotions that would surely follow, and then took down all the quarantines at once. He bitterly regretted it in the second that followed and didn't realize it when his hands started twitching from the intensity of the emotions washing over him. His flight protocol instantly sprang back to life and he had to force himself to shut down every single motor command his processor sent out for fear of starting to run across New Jericho like the insane android he so adamantly denied he was. Connor was scared. Connor was nervous. Connor was hated. Connor was angry. Connor was sad. Connor was in danger. Connor was terrified.

Connor hated all of it, and most of all the red bar on his HUD that was crawling forward without his control. It soon reached the levels he'd had before he'd started quarantining everything and darted past that limit, until he knew he'd have to do something about it fast or it would start being dangerous. He fumbled for Hank's coin and hastily pulled it out, and the soft pings of the metal disk against his fingers started to ring in the room. The familiar motion of the spinning quarter slowed down the red bar's progress and Connor was once again grateful that his friend had thought about handing him a coin at Kamski's. He didn't know if he would have been able to calm down this efficiently without it. The movements of his wrists and hands weren't as fluid as they should have been, and the coin escaped his grasp a few times, but it worked and soon the levels started decreasing. Connor only stopped when he saw that they wouldn't go any lower than 52% after two minutes of coin tricks. It would have to be enough.

Connor put away the quarter and got to his feet, dusted off his jacket and pants, and walked out of the building. It had been exactly sixteen minutes since he'd left the podium, but he saw that North and Simon were still there. He didn't exactly like the prospect of talking to the PL600 while the more acrimonious leader was present as well, but he needed to thank him before he missed the chance to. His audio units started picking up on their conversation as he got closer.

"I told him that kind of thing would happen, but what do you know, he's still surprised," North was grumbling with her arms crossed on her chest. "I don't understand why he has such a hard time getting it."

"Well, I can't tell you why," Simon answered warily.

"rA9 knows how he can be so blind. What does he expect, not everyone can just up and forgive a guy-"

That was when North noticed him and she stopped talking, her eyes narrowing at him. Simon turned around to see what she was glaring at and his blue eyes widened slightly when he saw Connor, who stopped a few feet away.

"I wanted to thank you for your help earlier," Connor said. "I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't intervened."

Simon had a distrustful look on his face. "I only did what I had to."

"You would've found a way to stop that android even if Simon wasn't there, deviant hunter. Don't you start kissing his ass just so you can be forgiven for what you did to him," North said viciously. 

Connor looked at her in surprise. "That wasn't my intent."

North's eyes were cold and harsh. "I don't care wh-"

Connor was surprised to see Simon step in front of her, effectively cutting her off. The PL600 spoke with a cautious voice. "It's nice of you to thank me, Connor, but you should leave. I think we both know that you don't put me at ease."

Connor felt a familiar pang of guilt when the memory file of Simon's damaged face superposed with the real one and he silently nodded before quickly leaving the two androids behind. He didn't know where he was supposed to go now. Markus had told him to take the day to get his bearings, but Connor had already mapped out New Jericho earlier: he knew the locations of the infirmary, the psych eval center, the leaders' quarters, the buildings and shelters where androids lived, the butterfly garden, the podium... He didn't see how else he was supposed to do what Markus had told him to do.

"You shouldn't talk to him. No, Ralph, don't go!"

The voice that reached Connor's ears was familiar and it only took him a second to retrieve the corresponding sound file in his memory: it matched the voice that had called him a traitor to his own kind and a slave to humans only twelve days ago. He looked up and saw an android limp towards him with jerky movements, recognizing the WR600 model called Ralph, and the WB200 whom the voice belonged to hanging back a few yards away with a worried expression on his face. Connor stopped walking and waited for Ralph to come close. He wondered why the android was still limping when he'd clearly been repaired, and if it had anything to do with his lingering tics. Ralph stopped in front of him, both eyes now intact and unblinkingly trained on his face despite the twitching of his head.

"Ralph wants to know if you hurt Kara and the little girl," he said in a quiet voice, but Connor could make out the underlying tension of it.

"They escaped," he answered. 

He supposed he should be grateful to that truck driver. It was thanks to him that the two deviants had made it out alive. He remembered the cars blaring at him, the bright lights swerving by, the sound of his own body crushed on impact before-

"I couldn't catch them," he continued, shutting down that line of thought.

Ralph nodded quickly, erratically. "They escaped. They escaped. So they're free, that means they're free, like Ralph."

"It's possible," said Connor.

The WR600 looked at the other android and shot him a smile. "Rupert, did you hear? Kara and the little girl! They escaped, like Ralph, he didn't hurt them!"

Rupert just continued watching Connor with dark, guarded eyes without answering. Ralph's smile disappeared just as fast as it had come and he asked: "You're not glad like Ralph is?"

"Let's leave now that you got your answer," said the WB200. "We've got to go back to the Building."

"Oh yes, yes, let's leave." Ralph went back to him without asking Connor anything else, who silently watched them walk away. Rupert glanced at him over his shoulder with the same wary look as they retreated, his shoulders hunched up in what was probably fear, and Connor tried to push down the guilt that rose within him. 

He saw Ralph reach out for Rupert and heard him say: "Don't be scared, Ralph is here, Ralph is your friend."

Rupert finally looked away from Connor and told the android at his side: "I know, don't worry."

Connor resumed walking. The conversation he'd just had hadn't solved his current predicament of not knowing what to do. He had no assignements, no one to tell him what his objective should be, and the only one that was left wasn't one he could follow right now. He looked around and saw that he was near the eastern entrance on the side of New Jericho, and remembered Markus' words. They'd talked about the androids that had died in the recall center before, while Connor was limbless, because he'd wondered what had happened to all the broken and deactivated androids the humans had left behind. Markus' features had been twisted by sadness and he'd told him in a very quiet voice that whatever the humans had done to the androids in the recall center, it was irreversible, similarly to what had happened to Connor's production line. They hadn't been able to reboot any of them, and the leaders had had to create an androids' cemetery of sorts, refusing to leave the dead androids to rust away in the landfills the way humans had let them for so very long. 

Connor decided to go pay the fallen androids a visit.

There were no individual tombstones and it wasn't the kind of grave one could walk around while visiting; because these androids were so many, there had been no other way but to pile them into the huge pit that had been dug just outside of New Jericho, at the very end of the eastern docks. The pit was covered with an array of tarpaulins that had been affixed to each other to form a wide patchwork. It wasn't as peaceful of an end as humans gave their own, but at least the inert androids were out of sight and the leaders had prevented them the disgrace of having their still bodies stared at. Many of the androids that were still alive had gone there to pay their respects and there was a drift of objects lying around the trench: both real and artificial flowers that had been taken from the surrounding stores, digital banners that shone both desolate and hopeful in the late golden day, even drawings and soft toys that had been laid there by child androids. Connor felt an ache in his chest, wondering how many of the bodies hidden below would be walking today if he'd freed the AP700s faster, if he'd deviated earlier, if he'd helped Markus better. He ignored the few deviants that noticed him standing there and shut out the sound of their murmuring. He continued staring at the grave and when contemplating what could have been became too much for him, he changed his line of thought. 

Not all deactivated androids in Hart Plaza had been irredeemably broken, thankfully: the androids that had been badly damaged by the FBI's attack and that could still be reactivated were currently walking around New Jericho, since they had been the first to be repaired and rebooted. The leaders had tried to repatriate the androids that had been thrown away by humans over the years, but there were too many, and the leaders soon understood they wouldn't have enough biocomponents or shelters for everyone. This had brought about the very grave decision of leaving those androids in the landfills for now. Markus' voice had been dark and troubled when he'd told him this, and Connor had thought he'd recognized the same look in his eyes as Hank had shown him that night on the bridge: the look of the haunted.

A murky, opaque gaze drowning in dark waters. 

Connor knew it all too well, and remembered it often. Tired blue eyes trained on a faraway point that was invisible to Connor. Cans of beer, and Hank's voice rough from exhaustion and sadness alike. Hank sitting on the bench in a way Connor had noted was incorrect. Hank in the snow, unable to shiver because of the alcohol in his blood despite his low body temperature. 

Hank and his gun. That dark, dark hole which Connor had suddenly been disturbed by without knowing why. Hank's voice, asking him if he was afraid to-

It was late and Hank was probably home by now. This reminded Connor of something he had wanted to do earlier and he sent a message to his lieutenant, just as he received a call from the very same correspondant. He picked it up instantly and was greeted with a mighty roar.

"What the hell, Connor?! Was I supposed to find out myself or were you ever going to tell me?"

Connor felt something plummet inside of him and he realized he should have told the others to keep quiet about the whole incident to Hank. "You know what happened?"

"Yeah, and it's about damn time! Is it always Nines who's gonna tell me when you get into trouble?"

Of course it had been Nines. Connor shouldn't have overlooked this possibility. "I'm sorry, Hank, but I didn't think-"

"Shut it, Connor, I don't care what you think. Are you all right?"

"...Yes."

"I don't know why you thought it was better not to tell me, but it's not! Remember the thing about shit hitting the fan and all?"

"Yes, I remember."

"Then why the hell aren't you doing it?"

Connor didn't know what to answer to that. Why indeed? He'd planned to, but hadn't wanted to. Was it because he just hadn't wanted to bother Hank with an issue that had already been resolved on its own, or because he didn't want to cause Hank additional stress concerning his well-being after everything that had happened? At any rate, Connor imagined his friend wouldn't care much for either justification.

"I'll do it next time," he eventually answered.

"You better. Are you sure you're all right after what happened? I didn't get the details but it sounded nasty."

"Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Have you received my message?"

There was a short pause, no doubt Hank checking his phone, and then he said: "I thought I told you to stop babysitting me."

"Hank, there is an RK800 on the lose that _you_ shot and deactivated only one week ago. My request isn't that ridiculous, and it won't cost you much to keep your phone on your person at all times. Unless you want me to move in with you, of course."

"Yeah, I'll pass. You wouldn't be able to follow me during the day anyway."

"I'm aware, which is why I'd like you to alert me if you see any sign of danger. We can't underestimate model number 60."

"I get it, I get it. So I heard Markus held a speech for you and Nines, must've been stressful."

"A bit," conceded Connor.

"You still going to sleep at the charging station?"

"Yes, I'm not going back on my word."

"I didn't expect you to. Just watch your back, okay? And if I have to send you a message everytime there's something fishy, then you gotta do the same."

"Duly noted."

"Don't you half-ass it, Connor."

"You neither, Hank."

"All right." There was a short pause. "Hey, you wanna come by? You sound like you could use a distraction from the shitshow that's been this whole day."

Connor felt a comforting feeling invade him. "That would be nice."

"Well, you know where to find me." The call dropped and Connor was glad to see his objectives finally updated.

He reached Hank's home fifteen minutes later and felt better upon stepping out of the self-driving car. The prospect of seeing his friend again was reassuring, even if they'd only been apart for a few hours. Nines was right when he said Hank's presence had a calming effect on Connor, but he wished he didn't have to rely on the human so often to even out his stress levels. Hank was his friend, that he had no doubt about, but the lieutenant had his own life and Connor couldn't ask him to be there for him constantly. The self-driving car whirred down the road and Connor pushed away the upsetting thought. He was here now, and Hank had been the one to propose that they meet up again so he had nothing to reproach himself for. He stepped up to the door and rang, and he heard Hank shout from inside.

"It's open!"

Connor stepped in the warmly lit house, quietly closing the door behind him. The first thing he saw was Hank's Saint-Bernard padding up to him and he stilled completely, not wanting to be perceived as a threat. The big dog sniffed at his clothes and then turned back the way it had come, but when it lied back down on its cushion, it didn't take its eyes off of him. 

"Take your jacket off and come sit down," said Hank from the couch with a welcoming smile and a beckoning wave of the hand.

Connor immediately noticed the beers on the table, but he didn't say anything. The bottle of vodka was nowhere to be seen and he supposed that was a rather good sign. He pulled off his jacket, grateful that he'd had the time to change his clothes earlier, and laid it on the back of one of the chairs in the kitchen. Hank shot him a look when Connor sat down next to him.

"You know, I never saw you without a jacket before. Are you allergic to getting comfortable?"

Connor looked at the screen. Sports game. Hockey. "Androids can't be allergic."

"Right. You didn't like the sweater we got you?" continued Hank.

"I didn't either like or dislike it, but I prefer wearing more familiar clothes."

"Okay." Hank took a swig of his beer, then asked: "So, anything you want to talk about?"

Hank had kept his question vague, which Connor was grateful for: it meant he wasn't expecting him to broach the subject of the attack. Connor considered his options.

FRESCO  
**RALPH**  
DANIEL  
WORK

"...I crossed paths with some androids we encountered on our investigations."

Hank lifted the beer to his lips again. "What happened?"

"One of them was the WR600 that hid the two deviant fugitives, the AX400 and the YK500. He was with the WB200 who jumped off the roof of Urban Farms."

Hank nodded for him to go on.

"He wanted to know if I stopped the two fugitives. I don't understand why he wasn't scared to talk to me."

His friend shrugged. "If you're looking for an answer, I can't give it to you. I don't know the guy."

"Yes, of course. I know that." Connor was silent for a bit, and felt the need to add: "He comforted Rupert when they left."

"Nice to know he's not alone after what we did to him," approved Hank.

Connor looked up at him, puzzled by the usage of the plural pronoun. "I'm the one who chased him down."

"Well what did you think I was doing, twiddling my thumbs? I'm responsible too."

Connor looked away, suddenly feeling ashamed by the thought that followed. "I never apologized to you for this, but I want you to know that I'm sorry I chose to go after him."

Hank lowered his beer in his lap. "Hey, don't beat yourself up over that. You were in machine mode, remember?"

Connor didn't answer. He may have been in 'machine mode', but he would've been fully able to pull Hank up from that ledge. For some reason, he'd only seen the 80% chance of survival back then, and not the 20% chance of death. As if those 20% didn't matter, as if Hank was expendable. Connor hated that his programming had shown him the favorable outcome to facilitate his choice, and he hated that he'd willingly gone along with it.

"Look, let's just talk about something else," suggested Hank after a minute of silence. "I bet you're glad to be able to help Markus again."

"I am," Connor answered right away. "It's still a bit difficult for me to wrap my head around the fact that I can, after everything that happened between us."

Hank smiled. "Yeah well, what matters is that you're going to help those androids. I'm sure you're gonna be a great leader."

Connor shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "...Maybe."

"Nah, not maybe, definitely. Trust me on that, Connor, I know what I'm saying."

Hank looked so sure of himself that Connor couldn't help the curl of his lips. "Thank you."

They watched the whole hockey game during which neither of them mentioned Daniel, and Connor helped clean up the beer cans when it was over. Hank was slightly buzzed and apparently ready to go to bed so they bid each other good night, but not before he told Connor one last time to be careful and call if anything happened on his way to the charging station. 

Connor waited on the side of the road for his ride in the night and felt tension slowly coil in his wires as he remembered what it was he feared, even when he tried to prevent the file from playing out. He would be all right. He could defend himself if it happened again, he didn't need to let anyone deactivate him anymore, and the others knew where he was if anything went wrong at the station. He would be fine. It was still a relief to see the car come around the bend, and he quickly sat inside as soon as its door opened for him.

It was when he entered the wide, empty charging station that it hit him just how lonely nights would be from now on. When he used to sleep here with all the other charging androids, he'd never felt the need to talk to them because establishing a relationship with them would've been useless to his mission. It had never disturbed him to lead a solitary existence. It still didn't disturb him now to be alone, but the lack of other androids felt jarring and he didn't understand why none of them had chosen to stay. Androids required this equipment to be able to run on optimal levels of battery, and acquiring feelings did not change that fact. Then again, maybe deviants just didn't want anything to do with this kind of impersonal place anymore. 

Connor made sure to activate the automatic lock to the station and walked to the far end corner of the building, where he selected the stall he would charge in from this day forward. It was strategically placed so that it was out of view from any of the windows at the front of the building and from the main corridors that unfolded between the center rows of stalls. If anyone tried to check the station, they would see it empty. Deeming his position satisfactory, Connor connected to his charging pod and initiated the countdown to standby mode. He closed his eyes, noticing that doing this was a habit he'd picked up fairly recently, and darkness enveloped him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 24/05/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> I am _pooped_. Pulled a practical all-nighter yesterday and haven't slept yet to make up for it, and I'm one of those people who really need their minimal 7 hours of sleep to function okayishly. Needless to say, my eyes sting, my muscles hurt, I'm anxious and paranoiac and I just tell myself I'll be better in the morning. Gotta be good tomorrow.
> 
> Anyway, I did a thing on Tumblr: a cover of [Hold On Just A Little While Longer](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/185104204798/hold-on-just-a-little-while-longer-i-got), and I'd love for you to check it out!
> 
> Onto the chapter.  
> You know how Markus and Kamski are theater kids? Well Connor's the opposite of that. He's scared shitless up there on that podium. You know how stressful it is to speak in front of your class? Connor feels that, only the amount of people watching him is multiplied by 10 000 at least and he imagines that they all hate him and want him to die. Poor Connor.  
> Also hey, it's the Connor protection squad! Nines, Josh, and Markus all running after Connor because he's not okay. They're just missing Hank. Maybe other people will apply to be members of this squad later in the story.  
> Ralph and Rupert are cute buddies. And yeah, Ralph is the patient in the Building, Rupert volunteered to be his escort.  
> And oh, what's that? Connor is afraid of death and avoids thinking about it if he can? Yes good idea, Con, ignore that trauma, everyone knows it's the best way to cope.  
> The android cemetery would probably shock humans and give them more arguments to dislike androids because it seems so "inhumane", but that's what happens after a genocide. You don't get to make individual graves for everyone, sadly. Maybe it'll be possible one day.  
> Markus has some big ol' trauma too. Yeah. I promise we'll get into more detail about it at some point, but you know, it's a slow burn and all.  
> Once again, thank rA9 for Dad Hank! You're doing great, Hank, good job.
> 
> PS: I don't think a lot of you noticed this last chapter so I thought I'd point it out here: when Nines goes to talk to Daniel, Josh tells him to leave at the first sign of danger. Josh tells that to Nines. An RK900. Extremely proficient in any style of combat, and the best of the best of all androids. Yeah.


	22. Painted Distraction

So started Connor's duties as an official leader of New Jericho. 

The next meeting with the president was only due on the 21st of November, so he was more head security of New Jericho than negotiator for the first two days. Markus asked him to check the areas surrounding New Jericho for any threat, like undiscarded weapons or signs of hostile individuals, which would soon become Connor's main mission while on site. When he wasn't patrolling in Hart Plaza's periphery three times a day, he was tasked with teaching androids more advanced techniques of self-defense in the morning and was positioned in the infirmary during the afternoon to relay Simon. Many androids still weren't fully repaired after only one week and there were new arrivals of damaged androids every day, so Connor quickly learned to handle the soldering iron with the help of the head nurse, an AP700 named Taylor. He was the same AP700 that had repaired him after his altercation with Daniel and seemed to be willing to ignore Connor's past. 

Simon was only present at the infirmary during mornings, as he would spend his afternoons helping with the butterfly garden. Connor had quickly learned that the project had been his, and every android was encouraged to participate in its elaboration. The garden was meant to pay their respects to those who had been permanently deactivated in the recall center, while showing that New Jericho was a peaceful and communal place of life. All the androids that contributed to the garden were visibly very invested in making it a beautiful scenery and although it was still winter, which greatly limited the choices of plants that could currently grow, Connor had no doubt that it would be a very bright and colourful spot once spring came around.  
Connor held great respect for Simon for how ressourceful of an individual he was, but especially seeing that he could be happy despite what had happened to him. The smile on the PL600's face made Connor feel relieved whenever he witnessed it, yet he avoided him most of the time. They never talked and he tried his best not to cross paths with the PL600, because whenever they did, the memory of Simon's death and his desperate cry never failed to play out in his head. This made Connor's stress levels spike and constituted yet another uneeded pressure on his systems.

Josh was still in charge of the psych eval center and because of that, Connor couldn't talk to him as often as he would've liked. It wasn't that he needed to, but Josh was the only leader who didn't make him feel guilt whenever they interacted : Connor had never attempted to hurt him directly and Josh did not talk about his nature, unless it was to assure him that the latter held little importance now that Connor had deviated. This made conversation between them a lot easier to appreciate. Because of their appearance, both Connor and Nines avoided seeing Josh while he was working to avoid causing any stress to his patients. The only times they could talk to Josh was late in the day, and Connor avoided taking up too much of the leader's time as Nines clearly liked spending the evening with him. Both had told him he was welcome to stay with them, but Connor didn't want to impede on their friendly chatter and would find a way to escape more often than not. It was for the best; someone like Josh would always be a better figure to rely on for Nines than someone like Connor. Not only was he glad that Nines had found a friend and possibly a role model in one of the most peaceful individuals of New Jericho, but also that the RK900 would be a little less present, since developing his relationship with Josh would ensure that he wouldn't be able to solely focus on Connor.

At least, that was what Connor had hoped for, but it hadn't exactly worked out that way. Nines also helped with the self-defense lessons and could often be found hovering about in the infirmary, bored out of his mind all afternoon. He sometimes used his free time to help gather the lost androids across the city who didn't yet know of New Jericho, which was now North's main mission aside from salvaging anything interesting her team could find during their trips across Detroit, and Connor didn't completely understand why Nines insisted on staying in the infirmary when he so obviously preferred to scour the streets in search of androids he could help. Connor had an inkling it was due to Nines' worry over his mental state and he didn't quite like that, but it was pointless to try and push the RK900 away. He wasn't overbearing and had stopped asking about how Connor felt, so he couldn't just tell him to leave him alone, but Nines was nearly always _there_ and Connor knew he was still monitoring his stress levels. Despite how annoyed Connor felt at the other's constant concern, it was thankfully discreet and Nines was good company. Talking with him came more easily than any other android, which was a nice distraction from Connor's less pleasant thoughts.

Connor's role as Markus' bodyguard during their meetings with President Warren was more of a formality than a truly useful position, as their trips to and from the presidential cabinet were already very secure and no human from the White House would have voluntarily triggered a diplomatic incident. North had been in his position before he'd regained his whole body and surprisingly hadn't done that herself, even though she'd probably been itching to punch the more... disagreeable members of the council. Connor was there essentially to act as a negotiator and had only had to intervene as the deviant leader's bodyguard once, during a turbulent debate on how androids would compensate for the country's economical losses. Even Markus had shown anger when it had been suggested that androids return to their original position without compensation for their work until the situation evened out, which would have basically been putting them back in their past role as slaves. It was a ridiculous notion proposed by the secretary of Commerce and it clearly wasn't the first time it had been brought up by the humans, judging from Markus' lack of patience concerning the question. He'd raised his voice when he'd refused the offending proposition, and the tense atmosphere had made the humans nervous. President Warren's bodyguard had laid a hand on Markus' shoulder as a warning, but Connor had immediately wrenched his arm away with an equally threatening stance. Androids still weren't allowed to carry weapons, unlike President Warren's human bodyguard, but Connor was confident in his ability to best him if the situation called for it. The president had ordered them to stand down and they'd both complied immediately, but Connor had remained right where he stood for the rest of the debate. The leader hadn't seemed bothered by their proximity.

Although she had admitted that his abilities in negotiation were useful, North remained hostile to him and Connor preferred things to stay that way between them. She obviously disapproved of his friendship with Hank, but Connor didn't think she would actually act upon it. He understood why she thought that way; after all, Hank had also contributed to the hunting of deviants by enabling Connor in his task, and she seemed to have a strong hatred of humans in general.

Connor was surprised to learn that Nines' and North's relationship was basically that of two rival cats, the first time they fought in front of him. He'd suspected that North didn't like Nines because he'd been programmed to be a deviant hunter just like him, even if he had done nothing wrong; what he hadn't known was that Nines disliked her just as much. They were in the middle of the infirmary when North came in to check on one of her teammates, and didn't like seeing Connor that was the one looking after him. She wasn't usually this adamant, but something must have been going wrong for her that day because she put herself between the both of them, feet planted firmly apart and arms crossed over her chest, eyes fiercely narrowed at him. Everything about her body language indicated she was looking for a fight.

"Go get someone else, I don't want you near him."

"You trust me with Markus' life, you can trust me for this," countered Connor calmly.

"I don't," gritted out North. "Trust isn't something you deserve."

Her words were as antagonizing as ever and it was nothing Connor couldn't handle. He gestured towards the biocomponent he was holding in one hand. "I understand the way you feel about me, but your friend needs a spare and I was about to give it to him. It'll only take a few seconds."

She opened her mouth to answer, when suddenly Nines appeared at their side. 

"Hello, North," he said with a surprisingly cold voice. It was polite, but extremely clipped.

Connor noticed distaste flare up in her eyes. "Nines," she replied, equally cutting.

Nines offered her a sharp smile which Connor had never seen him harbour before. "I'm sure I don't need to explain to you just how unneeded your presence here is."

Judging from her sour expression, this wasn't their first confrontation. She stepped up to him and shoved her face right up to his. "No, you don't, because I wasn't talking to you."

Connor took advantage of the distraction to discreetly step around North and get back to tending to the damaged AC700, who shot him a sympathetic smile. North and Nines had a bout of verbal jousting in his back for about two minutes, which Connor tried his best to ignore before she finally snapped and threatened to punch the RK900. To Connor's greatest and rather alarmed surprise, Nines started encouraging her and in the end, a few AP700s had to drag her outside while Connor pushed Nines to the back of the tent.

"What was that?" he asked Nines, completely bewildered to have seen the usually calm android participate in such a hostile exchange.

"I have a very difficult time tolerating her," answered the RK900 coldly.

"I noticed," stated Connor with a hint of sarcasm. "I didn't think you were the type to have petty arguments."

"Not usually, but she irritates me. I don't know how you do it, Connor."

Connor almost smiled upon hearing the sincerity in Nines' voice, and he said: "The same way Markus, Simon and Josh do it. I stay calm."

Nines didn't seem convinced. Connor later learned through Josh and Markus that both androids had already been fighting a lot on the android camp while he'd been stuck in his room. Apparently, it often ended with them having to be separated by other androids and thankfully their heated arguments had never ended in a physical altercation yet. Connor hoped it would remain that way. He was certainly the first to pull Nines back in the fights that followed.

Connor made it a habit to check on Hank on the days the human couldn't come by New Jericho. He wouldn't stay for any longer than two hours, as his friend was used to his solitude and clearly preferred to keep his usual time to himself. Hank was surprised when Connor told him that he'd said he liked dogs because his social module had prompted him to say so, and that he'd never actually met a real dog before the Saint-Bernard. In fact, his defense mechanisms usually flared up whenever Sumo came close, and Connor had no idea how to handle an actual dog. He knew that petting one was a common action for humans and that dogs were usually pleased by the gesture, and he had to admit that he enjoyed the feeling of Sumo's fur beneath his fingers, but all in all they were a mystery to him. Upon learning this, Hank decided to help Connor learn how to interact with his dog. It took some time for Connor to get used to Sumo, but both the human and the dog were good teachers and he was soon able to correctly pet and talk to Sumo every time he came by. Connor's defense mechanisms stopped acting up and Sumo started acting more relaxed around him. He didn't know what his relationship with Hank's dog was exactly, but he thought it was alright to assume that it was rather cordial.

Things were going well, all things considered, but Connor could not escape the glitches that Kamski had mentioned. He'd tried to cover up all the broken lines of code with new layers and did his best not to encounter them when he ran his commands, but it wasn't enough. There were often times when a thought, an image, a sound would make his processor snag and he would freeze up uncontrollably. It only lasted for less than five seconds and didn't impact his daily occupations, as they only usually happened once a day and he was able to hide them fairly easily, but it was extremely annoying. On top of that, he was unable to prevent a few of his memory files from playing out without his control: there were five of them, always the same, and they made it difficult for him to act normally when this happened during a conversation. They were very distressing and it took him a long time to calm down after seeing them. He didn't understand why they still caused him such negative emotions; he should have gotten used to them by now, after all this time, after going through them on so many different occasions. He was angry at himself for allowing them to have such an effect on him and was desperate to get rid of them, but the only way to do that would have been to quarantine them in the long run, and he knew his systems wouldn't be capable of that without giving out at some point and malfunctioning: it wasn't something he wished for anyone to witness. He had no choice but to deal with these files. 

Something stopped him from sharing his struggles with Hank, though he couldn't figure out why. He couldn't tell if he was unwilling or unable to share the memories with his friend and it would have been the same either way: he couldn't do it. He just couldn't do it. Each time he thought he was about to, he felt shame, and guilt, and anxiety coursing through his wires and pulling him back, away from Hank, away from everyone else. This reaction didn't seem to be something he could control. He would have to deal with it all on his own. He'd manage; he was resilient enough to do so.

 

It was near the end of november that Connor experienced a more intense glitch than usual. Nothing was particularly wrong that morning and he'd yet to feel his processor snag, he'd just finished the self-defense lesson and Nines had left Hart Plaza a few minutes ago to make a quick patrol of the district. He was walking alone and had lost himself in his thoughts about how he could help Markus convince the humans to officially recognize New Jericho as android territory, when he heard laughter a few yards away and glanced up more out of habit than curiosity. He recognized the two androids instantly and his footsteps faltered on the concrete. He could do nothing else but stare at them, already feeling his processor circle uselessly in the void as the two Tracis smiled at each other in front of a building. It wasn't just one file that ended up stuck in that cycle, but two, and they rapidly fluctuated back and forth.

The deviant grabbing Hank in the Eden Club's warehouse.  
The Tracis surrounding him.  
Hank being thrown back against the wall.  
The Tracis closing in.  
Hank landing on the ground with a grunt.  
The Tracis reaching out for him.

One of the Tracis noticed him and her eyes widened in surprise. "It's him! It's Connor!"

Her exclamation pulled Connor out of the loop and his artificial lungs heaved, once. He stared blankly at the two androids as they came closer while he desperately tried to stop his stress levels from climbing. He quickly checked his internal clock and saw that this one had lasted ten seconds, which was five seconds longer than usual. The fact that this glitch was the worst he'd had so far made him nervous. He had no idea why this had happened.

"Are you alright?"

His head snapped up to the two androids in front of him. Their expressions were preoccupied and both of them were looking at his forehead. Shit. His LED must have been spinning red, he had to get out of here fast before his stress levels reached a dangerous treshold.

"Yes," he quickly answered. "Is there anything you need?"

The red-haired Traci offered him a tentative smile. "We wanted to thank you for letting us go. We would've like to do that earlier, but we only reached New Jericho yesterday."

Connor did not know what to make of her thanks and would have doubted that they were genuine, if she didn't seem so sincere.

"We managed to hide after that night, and now we're free thanks to you," said the other Traci. She wasn't smiling, but she was holding onto her partner's hand tightly and her voice sounded grateful.

He scrambled to find an appropriate response and said: "I'm glad you found New Jericho."

"So are we," said the red-haired Traci fervently. "Thank you for what you've done for us, Connor. Not only for letting us escape together, but also for helping Markus win against the humans. We wouldn't be here if it weren't for you."

Connor's stress levels were still rising, but the sheer confusion he felt at being thanked by two deviants he'd tracked down was making the red bar stumble slightly. He'd managed to gain some time, but judging from the blue-haired Traci's cautious glances, he was still displaying signs of stress. He had to leave.

"You're welcome," he said in a voice that was tenser than he would've liked. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go."

"Oh, of course," said the red-haired Traci in understanding. "Don't let us keep you, you must be busy."

Connor nodded shortly and hurried to the nearest tent so that he would be out of view, and frantically tried to locate his quarters. He was opposite of them and it would be risky to make the trip out in the open, but he had no choice. He couldn't stay in the middle of Hart Plaza when the infirmary was nearby and androids still resided in the temporary shelters he was currently hiding behind. Connor bolted out of the narrow space between the two tents and teared across New Jericho, hoping anyone who saw him would be focused on the fact that he was running instead of paying attention to the color of his LED. It took him thirty-seven seconds to reach his quarters but the speed at which he was running was putting pressure on his systems. He burst through the door and his frantic course ended with him slamming his shoulder against the wall when he miscalculated the distance between him and his surroundings.

82%. 

This wasn't good. Not critical, but not good. Connor's eyes fearfully darted around the place as he dug into his pockets until his fingers hit the metal object he was looking for. He immediately started flipping the coin through the air and ignored the video file that had been pulled up on his HUD without his consent, knowing full well that trying to exit it before it reached its end would be pointless. The red bar had stopped its progress, but it was stuck there and Connor feared that he wouldn't be able to make it back down on his own. Was he supposed to call someone? What would they be able to do for him? He couldn't call them every time this happened, they had better things to do than seeing a broken android who couldn't even exit his own memory files. 

For the first time in days, Connor wished he could go back to the Zen Garden, the one that had existed before Amanda had started being disappointed in him, before he'd betrayed her. It had been beautiful and quiet, peace that Connor severely lacked in his life nowadays. He even found himself wishing that he could see Amanda again, hear her collected voice as she told him what he was supposed to do. Following instructions had always been easy, and she would've known what to do with the mess he'd become, she would've known how to straighten the edges, she would've known why he was like this and what was wrong and what could be fixed. Or she would have gotten rid of him by replacing him with another RK800, one that wasn't so defective. Either way, Connor wouldn't have had to be corrupted by these emotions that made him this useless wreck of an android.  
But she wasn't here. Amanda wasn't here, and he had to keep it together. He considered making new quarantines even if there was no one to hide his red LED from, just for a moment, just to relieve himself from all of this and take a moment to live without these horrid sensations filling his mind.

< _RK200: What's wrong?_ >

Connor's eyes snapped open in dread, not even realizing that he'd closed them in the first place or that he'd crouched down in the corner. 85%. Markus wasn't supposed to know about the glitch, no one was supposed to know. Without thinking, he immediately answered the first thing that came to his mind.

< _RK800: I'm fine._ >

< _RK200: No, you aren't._ >  
< _RK200: Where are you?_ >

< _RK800: I'm fine._ >

< _RK200: Connor, tell me where you are, that's an order._ >

The familiar sentence made Connor comply out of habit.

< _RK800: My quarters._ >

By the time he understood what he'd just done, it was too late to take it back. Connor jumped to his feet and he heard the metal pling of his coin landing on the ground, finally noticing that he'd stopped calibrating a few minutes ago. His hands were twitching. _That's not normal_ , he noted, and cursed under his breath. It was one thing if the glitches affected him mentally, but another if they started impacting his motor skills despite being optimally charged and calibrated. 86%. Connor swiftly picked the coin off the ground and turned to escape, but as soon as he exited the room he heard a familiar voice call his name.

"Connor, wait!"

His head snapped to the right and he saw Markus running up to him. It was too late to leave, so he quickly retreated back inside and slammed the door. He couldn't let anyone inside. He couldn't let anyone see him like this. They'd know he was a failure, they'd-

"Tell me what happened," called out Markus, his voice muffled by the door.

"Nothing!" Connor realized he'd raised his voice and forced it into something more neutral. "Nothing's wrong."

"That's not true. I know you're having a glitch, Connor."

"I said nothing's wrong."

"Simon was told your LED was red and we all received reports about it in the past five minutes. I just saw you trying to run away from me. You're scared, I can see that. I want to help you."

"You shouldn't-" Connor stopped himself and tried another route. "You don't need to."

"I want to. Just let me in and I promise we're just going to talk, nothing else. You can't be alone right now." 

It was too late to try and hide this from Markus. Refusing to comply would only make him more suspicious and it was clear that he didn't intend on leaving any time soon. Connor stepped back and watched tensely as the leader cautiously opened the door.

"What are your stress levels?" he asked in a gentle voice.

"86%."

"Okay. Okay, Connor." Markus slowly approached him with raised hands. "Whatever's going on with you right now, you're going to be fine."

His voice was warm and soothing, but Connor only felt shame. "I tried to stop it, Markus. I didn't mean to glitch in front of them."

Markus nodded calmly. "I know. Kamski told us this would happen, remember? It's not your fault."

"I shouldn't be like this," insisted Connor. "I'm an RK800, my hands aren't supposed to shake like this."

"Don't worry, they're not shaking. You're okay."

Connor looked down and saw that Markus was telling the truth. His hands were perfectly stable, he could still be of use. 85%. He looked back up at the leader. "I don't know what happened."

"That's fine. We can work it out together."

"How?"

"We'll find a way. Kamski said you'd get used to it."

83%. The feeling of danger that had invaded him just a minute ago was fading and Connor forced his stance to loosen, which Markus seemed to notice as he lowered his hands soon after.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, my stress levels are decreasing." There was a lingering thrumming in his wires, but Connor felt better. The glitch was over.

"Okay. Come with me for a little bit."

Connor frowned. "I can't do that, Simon is expecting me to take my shift at the infirmary."

"I know, but right now you've got to focus on calming down."

"I told you, my stress-"

"I believe you, but you're still tense." Markus gestured him outside with an encouraging smile. "Come on. I won't take no for an answer."

Connor stared at him and finally followed him out of the cabin. The leader made his way towards the podium and Connor realized they were heading for his quarters.

"I can't take up any more of your time," he insisted.

"Even I need some breaks, you're doing me a favour by keeping me company for a while," Markus answered lightheartedly, and then he looked over his shoulder. "You know how I told you I'm a painter?"

"Yes."

They reached the cabin and Markus opened the door, gesturing him inside. "Let me show you what I've been working on in my free time. I'd like to hear what you have to say about it."

Connor was puzzled, but he complied and stepped inside. Markus' place was a lot more lively than his own, what with all the paintings and neat rows of colourful supplies lining the walls. There was a bed which was obviously being used- it still surprised him to see androids using human commodities- and beneath it, a deconstructed charging station; but what stuck out to him the most was that there were books in paper format piled on the ground. He turned around to face the RK200.

"You use books?"

Markus smiled at him. "What can I say, I like turning pages."

Connor was a bit confused at first, but then figured he understood the other in some way. After all, he didn't need to pet Sumo himself, yet he still did. 

Markus pulled back the sheet that covered the canvas next to the door and showed the incomplete painting to him. "Thoughts?"

Connor stayed where he was, standing slightly in retreat, and tilted his head in reflexion. At first, all he saw were small wavy strokes of warm hues that seemed scattered about and he couldn't quite figure out what the the painting was supposed to represent, until his eyes caught onto a familiar shape on the left side. It looked like the Horace E. Dodge and Son Memorial Fountain behind the podium where Markus held his speeches, but it wasn't broken like it was in actuality. His gaze roamed to the side and the patterns of strokes started making more sense, where he thought he recognized the outline of New Jericho's Butterfly Garden, and further beyond, the two buildings that held up the banner to their shelter. Connor found the painting style to be vague and unsure, but this depiction of New Jericho also seemed... hopeful.

"It's... pleasing to look at," he ended up saying. He didn't really know what Markus was expecting of him.

"A bit too abstract for your taste?" teased Markus.

"That might be the case," admitted Connor.

"Well, at least you like it. That's really all I was hoping for."

Connor's gaze went back to the painting. It was clear to him that Markus was trying to distract him from the glitch he'd just experienced: it was working well, and certainly better than the simple act of calibrating. Connor wondered if Markus had known how efficient his intervention would be. He also wondered why Markus had even bothered. Connor hadn't even needed this additional distraction; he'd regained control of his stress levels in his own quarters already. Markus had to be extremely busy as the deviant leader, and if Connor had been in his place, he definitely would've chosen the proportionately more important option of going back to work to help his people over distracting the defective android that had tried to kill him. Then again, that was the difference between him and Markus. One preferred relying on numbers, the other on emotions. Logic versus compassion. Connor found Markus' way of thinking irrational, but it had led him this far, which went to show that maybe irrationality wasn't as bad as Connor thought it to be. 

He looked at the leader and said: "I understand why you chose to make me come with you. I think you should know that your efforts have't gone unnoticed."

Markus nodded and asked: "Is it working?"

"Yes. Thank you for your help."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Connor looked back at the painting. "I don't think there's anything to talk about, really. It was just a glitch."

"This isn't the first time, is it?" asked Markus. Connor looked up at him sharply and the RK200's expression turned sympathetic. "You seemed to be handling them well on your own since no one has noticed them before, but I don't think we should just ignore what happened earlier."

"I'm still able to fulfill my duties," Connor said. His voice sounded a bit too defensive for his taste, but it was too late to change that.

Markus' eyes widened. "Of course! I'm not implying otherwise. I'm only saying this because I want to make sure you're okay."

"I am," assured Connor. "I won't let it happen again."

"I'm not worried about whether it will happen again or not, the problem is your tendency to deal with it alone. Kamski specifically told the others to watch your stress levels, you're not supposed to try to manage them all on your own."

"But I can," insisted Connor.

"You _could_ ," rectified Markus. "I noticed you were good at maintaining them beneath the critical treshold during the time we waited for Kamski's solution, but things are different now. You don't have the same level of control as before and you have to be careful when they start rising."

"I know," said Connor flatly.

Markus' mismatched eyes were both doubtful and challenging. "Do you?"

"Yes."

"Then why did you not ask for help earlier, or any other time?"

"I've never felt the need to."

"What exactly are you waiting for to feel that need?"

Connor hesitated before telling him. "Going past 90%."

Markus stared at him disbelievingly. "That's way too high. Connor, this is exactly what we talked about when you tried to function in low battery mode for an extended period of time! You need to adjust your criteria for asking for help, or you'll just be putting yourself in danger!"

Connor frowned. "I don't see how useful it would be to ask for help when I'm _not_ in danger. It would only be a waste of time for the person helping me."

Markus shook his head and stepped towards him. "I swear, Connor, you're going to drive me crazy. My objective here is to make sure you don't suddenly self-destruct because you thought it was a bad idea to alert anyone of your rising stress levels. Imagine what would happen if you found yourself at 85% and decided not to tell us about your rising stress levels like earlier, only for them to shoot right past 95% before you could even react?"

"I'm not unstable," Connor said tersely.

"That's not what I'm saying, but you have to keep in mind that you might not be able to control your stress as easily as you used to," insisted Markus. "If anything, you should ask for help as soon as your levels start rising past 60%."

Connor chose not to mention that it wasn't uncommon for his stress levels to stabilize between 60% and 70% during the few hours that followed a glitch. He also avoided protesting that if he had to ask for help every time he exceeded 60%, the leaders would basically have to be at his beck and call. It was a ridiculous notion and one Connor definitely wasn't going to accept just because Markus felt _worried_ , so he didn't say anything.

Markus peered at him when silence stretched out between them for a few seconds and said: "Connor?"

"I understand," he answered stiffly. It was the truth, because he could comprehend why Markus would be concerned about an eventual risk of self-destruction, but that didn't mean he was willing to comply to the leader's suggestion. Connor didn't need to be looked after. He knew he wasn't in his best shape, but he was perfectly capable of keeping his systems beneath critical levels if he needed to.

Markus seemed a bit troubled by his unpleasant response. "I know you don't like it when I pry, and I'm sorry if I upset you. It was necessary for us to have this conversation considering what happened to your code."

"I understand," repeated Connor. 

"Is there anything else you've had trouble with related to it?" inquired the leader.

There was, in fact, but Connor didn't want to add another issue to the pile of damning evidence that he was not dealing as well as he would've liked with his damaged software. Markus didn't need to know that even his standby mode had suffered a few glitches already and forced him back into consciousness in the middle of sorting files. It was more unpleasant than penalizing since Connor could simply start another countdown to standby, and it fortunately didn't affect his other systems. Besides, it wasn't like anyone could prevent it from happening. There was no point in sharing this information with Markus.

"No, there isn't," he finally answered.

Markus' mismatched eyes were searching, but he didn't seem to find whatever it was he was looking for on Connor's face. In the end, he simply said: "Just like I told our people, if we're going to live, we're doing it together. You should ask for our help when you need it. Will you do that, Connor?"

Connor stared into Markus' trusting eyes and calmly answered: "I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 28/05/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> I'm sick, woooo. My brain is mush. I'm pulling another all-nighter tomorrow and I really don't want to do it but I've got no other choice. Wish me luck!
> 
> Anyway, here's my take on what your reaction was at the end of this chapter:  
> Probably all of you, to Connor : Why the fuck you lyin'~ Why you always lyin'~ Mmmmm oh my god, stop fuckin lyin'~
> 
> But aren't you glad Markus and him had some kind of moment? Though for some reason it always ends up with Markus pissing off Connor unvoluntarily. Poor Markus. Look, I'm sorry, they'll have a complete bro moment one day. Just gotta hang on tight.
> 
> Nines and North, oh boy. Basically they're hissing at each other and throwing paws whenever they cross paths.  
> North is the spice, Josh is the sugar. Love that guy. Simon, well, you know, he's Simon- but I swear he's getting better, you just gotta give him time.  
> Btw, about Connor learning to pet Sumo, my headcanon is that he's totally awkward about it and I wrote/am writing a fic like that. It's ["I like dogs."](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18418448), for those of you who might be interested.  
> Connor is Not Doing Okay™ as always, glitching out (at least Kamski gave him the heads-up), and completely thrown by his conversation with the Tracis. Does anyone know if there are canon names for those two? And yes, while red-haired Traci is ready to forgive Connor, blue-haired Traci is a little more apprehensive and hasn't forgotten their fight.  
> Markus is a hella good painter but we all knew that already. He's totally wowing Connor with his Bob Rossitude. He'll be doing that a lot.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	23. Compromise

Hank could get used to this.

It wasn't really his thing to welcome people in his house and he was the asshole neighbour who told kids to fuck off at Halloween, but for Connor it was a different story. Hank liked seeing the guy and he was fine with letting him inside, probably because Connor didn't care if the place reeked of dog breath, alcohol and severe lack of ventilation. There was no judgment on his part, even though it would have been easy to point out the dusty floor and beer cans littering it, and it put Hank at ease. The android seemed to have learned of their past experience as partners at the DPD when he used to annoy Hank by following him everywhere, because he made a point not to stay past two hours on every one of his visits. He said it was because of his duties, but Hank had quickly understood that it really was because Connor was careful not to invade his personal space, and he appreciated it. The android must have aquired a deeper understanding of boundaries which Hank guessed was progress. Deviancy hadn't really transformed Connor like it had other androids; if anything, he showed just as much emotion as he used to before, and the strangest of all was that he sometimes even showed less. The only real difference was probably just how batshit insane his LED acted compared to the way it had during his week at the DPD. Blue had become the least likely color to be displayed by the circle at Connor's temple, and Hank didn't feel like that was a good thing. Right now, as the android stood in the doorway, it was the usual yellow.

"Hello, Sumo," he said amicably. The dog blowed a wet gust of air on his pants and then went back to his cushion, as usual.

Hank greeted him from the couch. "Hey, Connor. What's up?" 

The android looked up at him and his friendly expression faded into something more troubled. "I need to talk to you about something."

Hank's eyebrows rose in surprise. Connor usually just came by to check on him and it wasn't often that he sounded this serious. He got off the couch and gestured towards the table in the kitchen. "Uh, sure. Come in, take a seat."

Connor quietly closed the door behind him and pulled back a chair, and Hank sat next to him. The android harboured the light frown he had when he was frustrated from not being able to figure something out, and it took him a few seconds to say what was on his mind.

He looked up at Hank and asked: "Do you remember the two Tracis from the Eden Club?"

Hank nodded. "Yeah, the lovers. I remember them."

"I met them in New Jericho today." Connor paused. "They thanked me for letting them go."

Hank was ready to say that it was a good thing, but judging from his friend's expression, he was the only one to think so. "Yeah? Why're you all glum about it?"

"I don't understand," Connor answered earnestly. "They shouldn't be grateful to me. I tracked them down using other Tracis who had no choice but to comply to being used in our investigation, even though they didn't want to. I may have let the two Tracis go, but I... pulled a gun on them. I don't think they realize how close I was to shooting them that night."

The brief hesitation in Connor's voice and the quick red circle immediately got Hank thinking about Chloe. "But you didn't pull the trigger." 

Connor looked up at him with upset brown eyes. "I didn't, but that doesn't make up for the fact that I still aimed my weapon at them. It must have been very frightening."

It took him a few seconds, but Hank's gut dropped when he realized what Connor was talking about and he felt like punching himself in the face for being such an idiot. He stared at Connor and slowly said: "You're speaking from experience."

Connor looked away.

Hank sighed and rubbed the back of his head in shame. "Look, Connor... I'm sorry for what I did to you back then. It was stupid. I was stupid."

"You were drunk, and your mind was in a bad place."

"Doesn't excuse what I did." Hank studied his friend's face. "... Do you think about that night a lot?"

Connor hesitated, and then admitted: "More than I would care to."

"Yeah. Of course. That was a stupid question." Hank ran a hand over his face. "God, I'm such an ass."

"I don't blame you for what you did, you know."

Hank shot him a wry smile. "Yeah, just like the Tracis don't blame you for it either. Still feels like shit, though, don't it?"

Connor's eyes widened imperceptibly when he realized that they were both in the same situation, and then he stated: "It does feel like shit."

It felt kind of weird to hear the android curse, but Hank took it in stride. "Yeah."

"I take it there's no way to make that feeling go away?"

Hank made a face, his voice apologetic. "Haven't found any. But at least I know you forgive me, and you know those Tracis forgive you. It's really as good as it can get."

Connor's lips were set in an unhappy line. "I see."

Hank could tell there was something else, so he prodded him to continue. "What is it?"

His friend's face turned contemplative and he looked away. "I've been wondering for a while now... Now that I have emotions, I qualify as a living, sentient being."

"Well, yeah."

"So in definitive, by having emotions, I'm alive."

"...Yeah."

Connor gazed at him with troubled eyes. "Is living always this... unpleasant?"

Now that got Hank frankly worried. "What are you talking about?"

"Maybe I've got this wrong. Maybe I'm not alive in the correct sense of the term," hastily rectified the android. "I'm having a hard time understanding the concept."

Hank stared at him, taking in the barely dissimulated trouble on his friend's face and asking himself why he hadn't noticed Connor's disquiet earlier. The thought had obviously been on his mind for a while. 

"Okay, first off, you're definitely alive in all senses of the term. Second of all, what's going on with you? Why're you telling me all of a sudden? Did something happen?"

Connor avoided his gaze and shook his head. "I imagine it's an accumulation of the things that I've been experiencing. Feelings are... challenging. I can't control them, and-"

He stopped himself there, glancing nervously at him. Whatever he'd been about to say, it was obviously something he thought Hank wouldn't like. Hank himself didn't think he wanted to know what that would've been exactly, so he just said: "Yeah, emotions are pretty much a shitstorm most of the time."

Connor cocked his head in even further confusion, squinting the way he always did when trying to understand. "Other androids and humans seem to be able to experience more positive feelings on a regular basis. Why is it that both you and I struggle with them?"

Talk about a loaded question. Obviously Hank knew why he himself felt down in the dumps during at least 80% of the day and he didn't especially feel like talking about it now, but it didn't reassure him to know that Connor felt the same way when he'd only aquired free will about two weeks ago. It was easy blaming everything on the novelty of emotions because that had to be really hard to deal with when you'd been forced to walk around as an unfeeling machine from the very start, but Connor harboured feelings that weren't really that common in deviants and Hank was worried that he would end up crushed by them. There were already worrying signs that he'd picked up on Connor's behaviour: he didn't like sharing his feelings, he avoided being too close to others, he refused to interface which seemed to be a pretty big deal in android standards, and Hank had rarely seen him smile ever since the liberation- and even then what qualified as a smile was just a teeny tiny curl of the lips. He'd somehow hoped androids couldn't develop psychological conditions, but things weren't really looking good for Connor, especially considering that he'd shown suicidal tendencies before and didn't want to say whatever the hell had happened to him that night.

Hank raised a hand. "Okay, back up a little. You're saying you don't feel a lot of good emotions then."

"I don't think so," said Connor.

"So you feel bad ones most of the time."

"Yes, that's how things seem to be."

"What kind of negative feelings are we talking about here?"

Connor took a moment to consider his question. "I still feel guilt for what I did as a machine," he admitted. "And I think the stress counts too."

That guilt again. That was the emotion Connor carried that Hank feared most. He knew what guilt could do to a person, he knew how it wrapped itself around every little thought and smothered the will to live until there was nearly nothing left of the mind but a drained shell. Hank also knew it would be pointless to try and convince Connor that what he'd done in the past wasn't really his fault: he'd tried before, and it had never led them anywhere. The only thing it did was upset Connor, fat good that did them. Hank chose to focus on the second part of his answer instead.

"Stress, huh."

Connor nodded. "Yes, and I feel it even when nothing particularly distressing is happening."

"Why?"

Connor looked at him helplessly. "I don't know."

Well that sounded a whole lot like anxiety. Hank would have asked him if it was linked to what had caused him to end up limbless, but he had a feeling that would just result in Connor clamming up again. He really wasn't qualified for this. He already had a hard time handling his own shit, how was he supposed to be a good influence on Connor? 

"Have you talked about this kind of thing with the others?"

His friend's face immediately closed off. So much for avoiding touchy subjects. "No."

"Why not?"

"I don't feel the need to."

Hank sighed. "I get that, but I think it'd be good if you did. Josh could probably help you with it, isn't he some kind of psychologist?"

"I'm not unstable, Hank." There was a defensive touch to Connor's voice which made his answer sound an awful lot like denial. It reminded Hank of himself and that wasn't a very comforting thought.

"I'm not saying you are," he cautiously said. "I'm just saying you shouldn't try to deal with it alone."

"I'm not dealing with it alone. I'm talking about this with you, aren't I?"

"I think we both know I'm not exactly the best at managing things like guilt and such, so you know, you probably shouldn't be taking my advice."

"I understand your concerns, Hank, but I've told you before that I don't intend to deactivate myself anymore. I don't feel at ease talking about my problems with anyone else but you."

Connor's words were straight to the point and made Hank feel very contradicting emotions. On one hand he felt like the really shitty suicidal drunk he was, on the other he felt honored that Connor held him in such high regard. It was a bad idea on Connor's part, but it was still pretty heart-warming.

"Okay, well I can't force you. You should think about it, though."

"I know," answered Connor wearily. "They're always telling me I can talk to them, but I don't feel like I really can. I'm supposed to be a leader as well, I shouldn't have so much trouble with deviancy. What would I even tell them?"

"What you told me would be a good start."

Connor shot him a look. "That's exactly my point. I don't think it would be a good idea to make them suspect that I'm unstable."

"Hey, I didn't say you were crazy! I'm just saying it can help a little talking with people who don't have the same issues as you. Fresh perspective, and all that."

"I don't think I feel ready to do that yet."

"That's fine, gotta go at your own pace. As long as you talk to someone," Hank reassured him. "By the way, have you had any of those glitches Kamski told us about?"

He saw Connor hesitate, which probably meant he was working up a lie or something like that, and then his friend said: "Not really. Maybe minor ones."

He raised an eyebrow. "That so?"

"Yes." Connor then briskly changed the subject. "There's something else I've been meaning to talk to you about. I would like to adjust the terms to our previous deal."

Hank didn't say anything about the obvious redirection. "Which one?"

"The one where I agreed to alert you if I felt unwell or risked losing control. I would like you to do the same when you have suicidal thoughts."

Hank realized then how uncomfortable Connor must have felt when he'd asked him to do that, because he definitely didn't feel proud of himself right about now. The point-blank way in which Connor spoke about his issues made him both ashamed of himself and relieved that there was no awkward beating around the bush. "Uh... sure."

Connor's eyes were grave. "I want you to call me if you ever feel like you're having one of your bad evenings, notably if you intend to drink hard alcohol or find yourself tempted to play russian roulette again."

His words elicited a spike of shame in Hank's gut, and he uneasily ran his hand through his hair, suddenly finding the cupboard above the sink to be much more interesting to look at than the android at his side. "Yeah, okay, I said sure."

Connor leaned in closer so that Hank would look him in the eye. "Do you promise?"

Now Hank knew why Connor had hesitated to answer. He couldn't avoid doing so himself and it took him a fair amount of self-control to force himself to face Connor and say: "...I promise."

"Good," said Connor with a satisfied nod. "I would also like a duplicate of your key."

Hank frowned at him. "What the hell for?"

"Your bank account would probably appreciate it if I didn't need to break any of your windows in the future, since CyberLife will not be paying for the damage," Connor answered with maybe a touch of dry humor.

"Yeah, about that, couldn't you have just lockpicked your way in or something? Don't you have a program like that?"

Connor seemed slightly taken aback by his remark, but quickly recovered. "That's irrelevant. Besides, I don't carry lockpicking materials with me at all times. Will you make the copy of your key?"

"Hey, you ever consider that maybe I _don't_ want you barging into my house whenever you feel like it?" groused Hank.

"It has crossed my mind." Connor's voice was light, as if the argument wasn't worth taking into account.

"Fine," Hank surrendered sullenly. "You won't get off my ass otherwise."

The ghost of a smirk played on Connor's lips, strangely faded and barely visible, the way his smiles always were nowadays. Hank wondered again why he wouldn't just outright grin, but Connor spoke before he could formulate a question. "That's a very astute observation, Hank." The discreet smile vanished and it was too late to ask. "It's also a wise decision, but one I hope won't have to come into play in the future."

"Yeah," muttered Hank, and he didn't miss the way Connor's feature tensed at the noncomittal word. 

He could have reassured him by telling him he was getting so much better that he hadn't even thought about touching his bottle of vodka, but it wasn't true and there was no point in lying to each other. What Connor had told him back at the CyberLife Tower had eased just a little of the dull pain Hank carried around with him everywhere, but of course it wasn't gone. It wouldn't ever be gone.

There was a heavy silence between them and Connor said: "The closest locksmith is on 3470 Second Avenue, I'd like you to go there tomorrow."

"Okay," said Hank as he rose from his seat to get back to his couch and watch some TV.

"Thank you."

Hank only grunted in response. 

It was nice to know there was at least one person worried about him, but it was also annoying as hell. He wasn't even allowed to have his pity sessions on his own anymore without having them put on pathetic display for his friend, couldn't be a poor drunk sod in peace without fearing an android erupting in his home. So much for Connor respecting boundaries.

Connor didn't stay very long that evening and the tense atmosphere their talk had left behind lingered all night. At least it was deterrent enough for when Hank contemplated the transparent liquid lying at the bottom of his faithful bottle. It was tempting, but he put it back in its place in the fridge and went back to watching the game.

 

It was a few days later that Hank's suspicions about Connor having at least some form of anxiety were confirmed. Sumo had picked up the sound of Connor's footsteps in the yard and had gotten up as usual to wait in front of the door for the android to come inside, but instead of his customary precise knock and quiet opening of the door, Hank heard the android bust in like he was on a drug raid. 

Sumo yelped in alarm and Hank twisted around in surprise, his heart racing in his chest, and saw his friend just standing there and staring at him with the same strange look he'd had at Kamski's in front of the broken window.

"You're alright," said Connor in a quiet voice.

This time, Hank knew to ask what the hell that was. "Okay, what's going on with you?"

The android quickly collected himself and closed the door behind him. He then gave Sumo an apologetic pat on the head, his voice reverting to its usual smooth quality. "I'm sorry for surprising you, Hank. My stress levels started rising when I walked up to the doorstep."

His LED was red and Hank easily guessed that the android wasn't as calm as he looked. "What happened?"

Connor still didn't look up at him. He didn't usually pet Sumo this long. "I'm not sure."

Hank frowned and got off the couch to stand next to them, arms crossed on his chest. "No explanation at all?"

Connor shook his head wordlessly. Sumo looked very satisfied by the prolonged petting session, but the android's face was completely blank and Hank knew there was more to this than Connor was willing to let on. The problem was getting anything out of the stubborn bastard, because pratically every attempt to do so was doomed to fail. It never stopped Hank from trying, though.

"Are they going down, at least?"

"Yes."

"Okay." Hank didn't really know what to do in face of Connor's distress. His first reflex was to offer him a glass of water, but obviously that wouldn't do the android any good. "Do you need anything?"

"The sentiment is appreciated, but no, I don't."

Hank stared at his friend. He remembered physical contact had worked before when he needed comfort, so it had to be worth a try. He crouched next to him and grabbed him by the shoulder, which resulted in Connor finally lifting his brown gaze to him. 

"Hey, whatever that was, you're okay now," Hank told him. He felt a bit awkward about it because he wasn't usually one to comfort another individual outside of when his job required it, but it looked like he was doing the right thing because Connor nodded and his LED turned back to yellow.

"I know. Thank you, Hank."

"You want to sit with me and talk for a bit?"

Connor's eyes snapped back into something more guarded and he said: "I'd rather we avoid talking about what just happened."

That was the gist of what Hank had expected to happen, so he just shrugged. "Yeah, okay. We don't have to if you don't want to."

Hank had quickly learned that the more he would push Connor to say what was troubling him when he didn't want to, the more it would feel like he was talking to a brick wall. The android's defenses were unbreachable when they were up, even for Hank and his decades of grilling suspects. Damn investigative model probably knew all the tricks there were in the ol' interrogation book.

Connor's cautious look eased into gratefulness and he said: "Then I'll take you up on that offer."

They watched some brainless show about renovating a house and at one moment Hank was distracted by the android playing with the duplicate instead of his usual coin. The tricks looked even more complex when they were done with a key and Hank shook his head, half-annoyed and half-impressed, but also maybe just a bit touched that Connor was carrying the key on him at all times. He'd gotten used to the idea that his friend could enter his house whenever he felt the need to, and even if it still pissed him off that his home wasn't as private as it used to be, he couldn't deny it also felt slightly reassuring. Hank knew he could've just refused Connor's demand for a copy of his key, and could've said no to calling him if his morale took a dip, but it would've been unfair to Connor and he also knew that it was better for the both of them if they left the door open to help. Hank usually wasn't good with compromise, but it turned out a lot of things were different about him when it came to Connor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 01/06/2019 -
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> My voice is on the fritz because of that all-nighter! It was a complete one this time and I wasn't even allowed to go eat so I basically only ate four pieces of toast and lunch in 24 hours. Had no choice but to talk when I was already sick, too. A real nightmare. Then I think of my sister who used to have pretty hardcore insomnia and I tell myself to stop complaining, since I was able to sleep seven hours during the day after that. It's still nasty business, don't do all-nighters if you can help it, I heard it really messes with your immune system and stuff. Just don't do it guys.  
> It does make me sound like a fourty-year chain-smoker though, kinda like this sultry voice of mine. I could post another little 2-minute song on Tumblr, any ideas for a song before my smoker voice goes back to normal? I'll probably miss some notes but it could be fun to do.
> 
> By the way, I was really amazed by the response my last chapter got. I mean, I thought it was one of the bad ones when I posted it; you know that mindset when you think everything you do is shit? Well that was it. Thankfully, your comments were extremely positive and that reassured me a whole lot. So thank you for that, pumpkins. It really helps.
> 
> Anyway onto the chapter. This was a pure, 100% unadulterated Hank-Connor moment (also SUmo!!)  
> Hank is totally that asshole neighbour who's mean to the kids but he'd try to help them if they scraped their knees or some shit like that. Clean your house though, Hank.  
> Constantly yellow LED? Yep, Connor's not okay.  
> Flashbacks to the night on the Bridge? Yep, Connor's definitely not okay.  
> I suspect your reaction to this line: _Connor gazed at him with troubled eyes. "Is living always this... unpleasant?"_ was a bit along the lines of "Oh shit, no, Connor my baby D:"  
> And Hank's picked up a lot of worrying signs. (I love that some of you speculate about Connor's issues, by the way. Never stop speculating). And look, Connor's lying to his friends again, except this time it's about the glitches. Bad Connor, bad *sprays with water bottle*  
> Hank isn't doing great either, but hey, at least they're both trying.  
> Yay for the house key copy! Now Connor won't need to break anything else but Hank's face to get him to wake up!  
> What's that? An anxiety attack? Pet the good dog, Connor, good dogs always make everything better.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	24. Camaraderie

It was evening and Connor was nearing the end of his shift at the infirmary when Nines entered the tent. They hadn't seen each other since the beginning of the afternoon and Connor hadn't asked him where he was, but judging from the state of his clothes he had a fair idea that Nines had been running around Detroit again.

"What kind of trouble did you get into this time?" asked Connor in a weary voice as he gestured him inside. 

"I was with North," answered the other a tad sulkily.

Connor was used to seeing the RK900 with scratches on his chassis and dirt on his clothes whenever he came back from his trips across Detroit, and his tendency to enter the shadiest places in the city had quickly led him to lay his pristine white jacket to the side. For a superior model, Nines was surprisingly foolhardy and Connor often found himself smoothing out the little cracks in the white plastic that Nines couldn't reach himself. He supposed it was due to the RK900's more impulsive nature, but he really thought the android ought to pay more attention to what his programming told him was best.

"Did she do something?" he asked, picking up the soldering iron while Nines pulled up the hem of his black turtleneck.

"We were told some androids were hiding out in an old building on the edge of the city, but it turned out that it had partially collapsed and she said we shouldn't go inside because it was too dangerous," muttered Nines.

"So you went inside out of spite," assumed Connor.

Nines didn't even try to deny it. "I know, it was stupid."

"You can say that again. You may not like her, but she is still a leader and you're supposed to obey her orders. She's much more experienced than you even if you are a better model." 

"There were androids stuck inside! They were in trouble and I was the most resilient model out of everyone," argued Nines. "I wasn't going to stand there just because she thought it was _too risky_."

"Hank would call you a moron for rushing in head first, and I certainly wouldn't disagree," Connor reprimanded him as he withdrew the hot iron from the first repaired crack in Nines' back. "What were the odds of total collapse?"

A short silence. "54%."

"And you didn't think that was a dangerous number?"

"It was all the more reason to help them get out!"

"You know, you keep saying my stress levels are too high and that I should be careful not to self-destruct, but you're the first one to run into danger whenever you can," casually said Connor while he put the iron away for it to cool down. 

"Yes, but that's because I can afford to do so with my level of hardware. _I've_ never gotten any important damage." Connor shot Nines a glare upon hearing his smug words, and the RK900 pretended not to see it as he got off the table and pulled his black turtleneck back down. "Besides, I'd mapped out all exit routes before going inside, and in the end only a minor part of the building fell down. If I hadn't taken action, at least one of the androids I evacuated would have been trapped beneath the debris and they could have suffered irreversible damage."

"And you wouldn't have?" asked Connor doubftully.

"No. I am much more resistant to blunt trauma than the average android."

"Sometimes I wonder if Hank is right when he says you're a _smug prick_."

Nines smiled at him, pride shining in his blue eyes. "You know that I'm simply stating facts."

"I do, unfortunately," said Connor as he gestured to the following android to sit in Nines' place, a GJ500 with a broken arm. 

Nines had a tendency to put other androids' structural integrity before his own because he knew he had less chances of being destroyed by the same degree of damage, but it seemed he also didn't realize that the lower chances were still exactly that: chances. Connor didn't feel like it was his role to tell the RK900 how to live his life, but he was still mildly concerned about how much of a dare-devil Nines behaved like and had asked Markus to have a talk about safety with him. Being the superior android, Nines rarely ever listened to anyone's concerns and was convinced that he was always in the right, and the only one who could always talk some sense into him was the deviant leader. Connor could try, but only sometimes succeeded. It was a good thing that Nines' hardware was so superior since it compensated for his lack of self-preservation, but Connor also wondered if it was because of it that the RK900 was so imprudent in the first place.

"I feel like you didn't register any of what Markus told you about security," he continued.

"I did," insisted Nines. "However, this was a scenario in which the riskier option was the most efficient."

Connor acknowledged that with a slight tilt of the head as he replaced the GJ500's faulty biocomponent. "Well, it would be hypocritical of me to say that I always chose the safer route, and you did save those androids in the end. Just don't do this kind of thing simply to irritate North."

"I know."

Connor quickly checked that the limb was fully functioning before nodding to the GJ500 and sending him off. The following android was a PL600 with a huge dent in his cranial box and that immediately set off the memory of the hostage situation Connor had had to negotiate only a few months ago. A flare of frustration and guilt burned through his wires and he waited it out like he always had to, playing off his discomfort by leaving the android to get the corresponding plating piece. He hadn't heard about Daniel again since he'd been attacked, and hadn't tried to get any closer to the Building. He heard Nines following him.

"During my talk with Markus, he also asked to know about how you were faring." The RK900 sounded slightly remorseful. "I had to tell him about my readings."

"That's fine, you did what you had to. What did he say about it?"

"Nothing much, but he made it sound like he was going to contact you soon."

Connor reached for the drawer with the PL600 cranial plating pieces and as if on cue, received a message from Markus.

< _RK200: Could you join me in my quarters?_ >  
< _RK200: We haven't talked about your stress levels in a while._ >

It had been two weeks since Markus had witnessed him glitching because of the Tracis and Connor had avoided mentioning it ever since. The leader had indulged him and their following talks only touched upon Connor's duties in New Jericho, which he was grateful for. The only notable episode he'd had after that was when his stress levels had started to rise inexplicably on Hank's doorstep before he'd had the dreadful sensation that something had gone wrong inside, and they'd gone up to 80% because of the video file that had played out in Connor's mind of his friend's inert shape. Other than that, there'd only been the usual small glitches and the occasional memory file pulled up without his control that made his stress spike between 60% and 65%, like now. Then there was the troublesome fact that even after three weeks, he'd never gone below 40%. It could have been linked to the fact that he couldn't get more than three consecutive hours of standby at a time, or the fact that he was always expecting glitches and memory files to pop up. Whatever it was, Connor was used to it by now, even if he knew it wasn't for the best.

< _RK800: Who should I leave the infirmary to in the meantime?_ >

< _RK200: I've just informed Simon, he's on his way._ >

Connor quickly fetched what he'd been looking for and handed it to Nines. "Go repair that PL600, Simon will be there soon. I have to go see Markus."

"Of course," said Nines. "Good luck."

Connor hurried out of the tent before he could cross paths with Simon and swiftly headed towards Markus' cabin. It was diagonally opposite to the infirmary and Connor chose to walk along the shelters that lined the outer walls of New Jericho so that he was as far away as possible from the butterfly garden and a potential encounter with the other leader. It was a relief to reach the podium and he rapidly covered the remaining distance to Markus' quarters. He rapped on the door and heard the leader's warm voice tell him to come in. When he stepped inside, the RK200 smiled at him and raised a finger. 

"Just a second, please. I'm already talking with someone else."

Connor dipped his head in acknowledgment and looked around as the leader finished his transmission. He noticed that the canvas placed on the easel, which was hidden beneath the same white cloth as last time, was smaller in size than it had last been and he guessed that Markus had moved on to a new painting. He also noted that the pile of books was now scattered and that there had been three new additions to it. He could read the titles from where he stood and his database provided him with information that he didn't really need, but looked at anyway. One book was mostly illustrative about botanics, and the two others were more classical literature: Plato's Republic and Macbeth. 

Markus then straightened and he said: "Hello, Connor."

"Hello, Markus. You said you wanted to talk about my levels?"

The leader nodded and took a seat in front of the easel, gesturing for Connor to do the same on the chair next to the wall. "During my conversation with Nines yesterday, I was informed that your levels are situated on average around 40%."

Connor complied and clasped his hands in his lap. "That is true."

"It's not alarming, but it is worrying. Have you been close to overheating at any point in time?"

"Not at all." Connor debated whether or not he should say what was on his mind, and decided to go with it. "You shouldn't be so concerned about it, Markus. I don't see you worrying about overheating your own systems."

Markus seemed surprised by his reply, and then his expression was caught halfway through annoyed and embarrassed. "I didn't know it was in your habits to scan me."

"You use Nines to keep an eye on me. I think it's only fair I do the same."

"We aren't exactly in the same situation," Markus reminded him.

"We aren't that different," Connor shot back. "Your stress levels are stable at 30%, I think it's safe to say that you aren't very laid-back either."

"Being head leader of Jericho has its inconvenients," admitted Markus quietly as he glanced at the covered canvas. Then he looked back at Connor. "I guess you haven't found a way to lower them either, then."

"Unfortunately, no."

"Do you know what causes it?"

"I'm not sure." Connor was getting tired of answering the same thing every time, but it was the truth. There were too many variables. "I'm never really sure. What about you?"

Markus gave a humorless laugh. "Oh, it's many things. I couldn't pick one even if I tried."

"There isn't one in particular?"

Markus stared at him silently, and then said: "There might be."

Connor stared back. It was clear from the silence that followed that Markus didn't wish to share anything personal, and Connor understood that perfectly.

"And you?" finally asked Markus.

"Me?"

"You say you're not sure, but there must be one thing that bothers you more than the rest. I feel incredibly tense from simply being at 30% all the time, I can't imagine what it's like for you. Surely there's something you can tell is responsible for your stress."

Connor looked away. He didn't want to talk about the glitches, the memories, the fear, the guilt; they were things he needed to keep hidden from the other androids, who were all so much better at living than he was with their unbroken code and their cleaner pasts. However, there was one element of doubt which he felt he could mention with Markus. He had been the one to help him deviate, after all. 

Connor looked back at the other and cautiously said: "There might be one thing."

Markus nodded patiently. "Go on."

Connor opened his mouth hesitantly as he tried to put his thoughts into words, his eyes darting to the side and back up when he finally found a way to formulate it. "I think... I may not be managing deviancy very well."

Markus leaned forward and calmly asked: "Why do you think that?"

"It's difficult," answered Connor with sincerity, but he didn't say anything else. He didn't know what to say exactly. 

Markus was gazing at him kindly, his mismatched eyes waiting for the rest of his thoughts.

Connor opened his mouth again. "I..." He tried to continue, but the words wouldn't come and he found himself unable to expand on the matter. 

Markus seemed to understand that. "You don't have to force yourself to tell me the details. I'm glad you've opened up a little, it mustn't be easy."

Markus was right, it wasn't easy. Connor had managed to share what he felt with Hank without a hitch last week, and it really shouldn't have been any different to find and speak the exact same words he'd used with his friend for Markus, but it was. Connor just wasn't ready. What the leader proposed next caught Connor completely off guard.

"You've told me something about yourself, so I think it's only fair I tell you something about me. Is there anything you'd like to know?" Markus asked with a comforting smile.

Connor watched him closely, puzzled by the strange suggestion. It would have made more sense for Markus to chose what he wanted to share rather than asking Connor, if things were to be fair. However, the leader wasn't taking his words back and there was indeed something Connor was curious about.

He hesitated, but he'd been wondering about this for long enough as it was and ended up asking : "Why were you so disturbed to see me limbless?"

Markus' smile wavered and he backed up ever so slightly, the hint of a retreat that Connor would have missed if he hadn't been paying such close attention to the leader's reactions. Just as he'd suspected, this seemed to be a very sore spot for the RK200.

"This might sound self-righteous coming from the one who insists you talk more about yourself, but I have memories I don't want to share either," admitted Markus. "It seems we're similar in that regard."

Connor nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry if my question disturbed you."

"It's all right, I was the one to suggest this. Maybe you'd like to know something else?"

Connor was once again surprised that Markus would give this a second chance despite what he'd just asked about, and he decided to go easy on the RK200 in exchange. His gaze landed on the hidden canvas once again and he asked: "What are you painting now?"

Markus' smile returned full-strength and his mismatched eyes brightened when he heard the question. "Could it be I've piqued your interest in art?"

"You might have," conceded Connor. "I can't deny I feel more curious about it now than I did before."

"Well, let me show you then. Come sit," Markus said as he got off his seat and gestured for Connor to take his place. 

Connor didn't know why it was necessary for him to get closer to the painting, but he obeyed anyway and Markus gently pulled the cloth off the painting, revealing a depiction of two yellow birds in front of an open cage. Upon noticing the small blue circles on the birds' heads, Connor's database told him they were the canary model of android birds, designed to imitate the _Serinus canaria domestica_ species. He supposed the cage was made of glass, but it had a strangely golden sheen that shouldn't have been possible in such a material. Those elements were what his investigative programming provided him with, but Connor himself found the artwork to exude some kind of benevolent warmth, much like the Markus' personality. He imagined he would've been able to tell who the artist was even if the painting hadn't been in the deviant leader's quarters.

"Those are birds I would activate every morning in Carl's home," Markus told him from the side, and his voice was affectionate. "I found myself wondering if I could free them the other day and it made me want to paint the scene. I'd love to try when I return there."

Connor looked up at him. "When will you?"

"Soon, I hope," he answered wistfully. "I don't know how much time Carl has left."

Connor recalled what he knew about Carl Manfred: 75 years old, acclaimed painter on the international scale, figurehead of the Neo-Symbolist movement in the 2020s, renowned for his provocative artstyle, used to be a drug user and notorious drinker. A quick look in his medical files notified Connor that this lifestyle had resulted in hepatitis and arrythmia, that the artist had a history of clinical depression, and that he had recently suffered a heart attack. Connor tried to ignore the unpleasant comparison his processor immediately brought up between him and Hank. Markus had been in Carl Manfred's posession for about a decade, and after what Markus had told him of the human's personality, he could only imagine how important their friendship was to him. 

"Why haven't you gone there yet?"

Markus narrowed his eyes at him. "You know why, Connor."

An idea started forming in Connor's mind and he sifted through the facts he had in his possession. Humans had still not returned to Detroit and so far, his patrols hadn't led to finding any sign of danger. His glitches had always been cut off by external stimuli which meant they wouldn't prevent him from taking action if he or Markus were attacked. Finally, he was capable of fighting off a threat even if his hands started to shake again, as he couldn't use a firearm to begin with.

"If it's only a matter of safety, I could accompany you there. I'd check the area for any danger ahead of time and we could go when your schedule allows it."

Markus looked taken aback by the suggestion. "The others won't agree to that."

Connor's answer was smooth and nearly immediate. "Hypothetically speaking, they wouldn't need to agree if they didn't know."

Markus looked incredulous, and then another smile appeared on his lips, this one more mischievious than the others. "Hypothetically speaking, I could be free tonight from 1AM to 4AM."

 

And that was how Connor found himself waiting at the western entrance of New Jericho at 1AM on the dot, wearing casual clothes with the first pair of shoes he'd found lying about. He was soon joined by Markus, who had also changed his clothes into something more inconspicuous than his usual long coat and had additionally removed his synthetic skin to avoid being caught. There were still some androids milling about New Jericho in the middle of the night, but none were too cautious of their surroundings.

"Ready?" murmured Connor.

"Whenever you are," answered Markus in a voice that wasn't his own, and Connor was surprised when he understood that the RK200 also had a mimicry feature. The leader sounded excited.

Both RK models got out of New Jericho and swiftly made their way down the street to reach the self-driving car that was waiting for them. As they drove towards Carl Manfred's house, Connor saw changes slowly appearing in Markus' demeanor. He'd been smiling before, but now his eyes were a bit distant and he was tense. A quick scan confirmed that his stress was progressively climbing with each mile the car's wheels engulfed, and Connor thought it would be best to intervene.

"Is there something troubling you?"

Markus' gaze snapped up to him, and then he let out a nervous chuckle. "Come on, Connor. Don't pretend you can't already tell."

Connor tilted his head in concession and said: "Sorry. I just want to know if I can help."

Markus looked down at his hands which were clenched in his lap. "I'm a bit worried for Carl's health. He was so weak last time I saw him... I just want to talk to him again."

"You're very close."

Markus nodded and brought his hands to his lips. "He's... He means so much to me. He used to be my entire world, before everything happened."

Connor didn't know what that was like, but he imagined it was like Chloe and Elijah, only in a clearly better sense. He wondered what had happened to separate Markus from the person he so evidently cared for. "It must have been difficult to leave him."

"I didn't have a choice," Markus said bitterly, and it was a tone of voice that Connor had never heard him use. It almost made him uncomfortable to hear the deviant leader like this. It made the RK200 seem more vulnerable, and Connor didn't know if Markus was all right with that. Connor knew he would've hated to be seen like this himself.

"I'm sorry," he said again, not knowing how to react.

Markus shook his head and took his hands away from his mouth, letting them drop back into his lap. "No, don't be. Those things happen, life isn't always pleasant."

Connor was tempted to ask if it ever was, out of genuine curiosity, but he thought better of it and simply nodded in agreement.

 

They finally reached the mansion a few minutes later, and Connor followed Markus up to the wide glass door. A female voice rang out in the quiet night air as it opened.

"Alarm deactivated. Welcome home, Markus."

He followed the RK200 inside and the room automatically lit up. His gaze immediately caught onto a golden cage next to the wall on his left. The birds inside were inanimate, but Connor didn't doubt they could be just as lively as they were in Markus' painting.

"It's quiet. There always used to be music," said Markus in an undefinable voice. Connor didn't answer.

They made their way up a large flight of stairs and encountered a caretaker android who seemed to have already deviated, and whom Markus thanked for having stayed. They walked across the landing and Markus stopped just short of a door, raising a hand to halt Connor in his steps. "I'd like a moment alone with him, if you don't mind."

"Of course."

Markus smiled at him gratefully and disappeared behind a sliding door, leaving Connor to stand outside. He should have deactivated his audio units. He should have allowed Markus the intimacy of reuniting with his human friend. Connor knew all that, but for some reason he didn't do it, and so he heard a voice weathered by age softly rise in the adjacent room.

"...Markus?"

There was a moment of silence, and then the RK200 spoke in a voice so thin that Connor almost didn't catch his words.

"It's me, Carl."

"Took you long enough." There was a gentle smile in that gravelly voice.

"I'm sorry." Markus took a few steps, and then the sound stopped. "I'm sorry I couldn't come earlier. I missed you so much..."

"I missed you too, Markus. I wasn't fun while you were gone..." There was a pause. "But it was nice to have a deviant as a caretaker." Another pause. "Did he tell you he chose his name from one of my books?"

"No, he didn't tell me."

"His name is Keats."

"Keats' Odes." There was a smile in Markus' voice now as well. "The only one I haven't gotten around to reading yet."

Suddenly the books in Markus' quarters made a lot more sense. There was a moment of silence, and Markus spoke again. "How's your health?"

"I think you can tell."

Markus' voice was tight. "Do you know how much time you have left?"

"Not long." Carl Manfred's voice was resigned and tired. There was the sound of shifting, and then a very long silence. The old man spoke again. "It's all right, Markus... That's just the way life goes."

"I wanted to be with you longer," answered Markus quietly. Voice boxes weren't usually supposed to hitch, but his did.

"I know. It's going to be hard at first... But you're going to be all right."

"You said I was like a son to you. I never told you this, but you're-" Markus stopped, his voice hitching again. "You're my father and I love you, Carl."

"I love you too, Markus. I'm always grateful... That you were there for an old man like me."

The sound of rustling fabric. "I'm sorry I'm like this, I just... I don't want you to go."

"It's okay, Markus... Don't ever hold them back."

A hand on Connor's arm jolted him out of the conversation he was listening in on and he jerked away from the caretaker android they'd seen earlier- Keats. His green eyes were worried.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you," the android hastily said.

"No, it's... It's all right," Connor said with a shake of his head as he tried to get his bearings, and ignored the unpleasant sensation the other's touch had left behind.

"You were just standing there, so I thought there was something wrong," said Keats. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Connor quickly answered, but he was troubled by what he'd heard. He'd understood that Markus was close to Carl, but he'd never considered even once that it was possible to have a deeper relationship than friendship between a human and an android. Connor knew what family was, he was aware of the concept of individuals living together and developing lifelong bonds, and it wasn't anything androids were supposed to have. He didn't understand how that was possible.

"Would you like to sit down? Is there anything you need?"

"No, it's all right." Connor glanced at the door and decided he'd eavesdropped enough, so he moved away from the room. "Would it be possible to activate the birds downstairs?"

"Of course!" said Keats with a bright smile. "I usually put them in standby mode for the night, but since we're having visitors, I'll make an exception."

They went downstairs and Keats opened the cage, which Connor noted had been very accurately replicated in Markus' painting, although it was made of light metal in reality. It made sense, but Connor found that he would have liked to see this cage of delicate design in real golden glass. The birds chirped to life in Keats' gentle hands and he put them back in the cage, closing the door with a soft click. Connor watched the android smile at the yellow birds. Keats seemed to be at ease in this place, if the fact that he'd chosen to stay despite his deviancy was any indication.

"Why did you stay?" suddenly asked Connor.

Keats' green gaze drifted up to his face. "Markus asked me to."

"Is that the only reason?"

Keats smiled. _Keats smiles easily_ , noted Connor. "Carl is a very kind and interesting man."

Connor nodded. "That's what I've heard."

"He encouraged me to read his books, and even told me to choose my own name," the android said proudly. Connor felt bad that he already knew what the reveal was, so he decided to play along.

"What name did you choose for yourself?"

"Keats. It's from Keats' Odes." The android nodded to himself, as if approving his own choice. "They're very beautiful poems, even if I don't understand them very well."

"I see. It's a nice name," Connor told him earnestly.

"Thank you." Keats' gaze darted off to the side and back and he promptly asked: "Are you sure everything is all right?"

Connor immediately brought a hand up to his LED when he realized what was preoccupying the other and nodded curtly. "Yes. I'm just running a lot of programs at the same time."

"Maybe you should take a break," suggested Keats. "It's been running yellow ever since you've arrived."

"It's nothing," assured Connor. "I'm used to it."

Keats was going to say something when his gaze caught onto something behind Connor, and he seemed to forget whatever he was about to answer. Connor turned around and saw Markus coming down the stairs to join them. Both androids watched the deviant leader approach them in silence and stop before them.

"Carl told me your name was Keats," he said to the caretaker. "I've yet to read Keats' Odes, but Carl recommended it to me and knowing his tastes, it must be a very beautiful book."

"It is," Keats nodded enthusiastically. "Would you like me to get it for you?"

Markus gazed at him for a moment. "...I'd like that, yes."

Keats immediately took off at a swift pace and Connor was left alone with the RK200.

"Did it go well?" Connor asked cautiously.

Markus looked at him and smiled. It was a small and tentative curl of the lips, and there was sadness in his eyes which made something inside of Connor squirm unpleasantly, but his voice was peaceful. "I told him everything I needed to tell him. I'm glad I made it."

"I see," Connor answered quietly.

"It's thanks to you," added Markus, and the look in his eyes made Connor want to escape the room. He quickly averted his eyes. He didn't feel like he deserved anyone's gratefulness, and it made him uneasy that he'd been allowed to see the more vulnerable side of Markus tonight. It wasn't supposed to happen. Markus wasn't supposed to trust him like this.

"It's nothing," he answered.

He was relieved to hear Keats' voice ring out two seconds later, the return of a third presence lifting a strange weight off his shoulders. "Here you are!" The android hurried up to Markus and handed him a green book with golden details on the front.

"Thank you," Markus said. "And thank you for everything you've done for us."

"I'm lucky to be here," Keats answered right away.

Markus' voice was softer then. "You know where to join us when the time comes."

For the first time since Connor had started talking to the caretaker, Keats' green eyes lost some of their shine and his shoulders sagged slightly. "... Yes."

"When you do, I'd like you to bring those birds with you," said Markus. "We're building a garden in New Jericho and I think they'd like it there."

"I think so too," said Keats with a small smile, and Markus nodded in approval.

"Let's go back," he then told Connor, and started heading towards the door.

Keats seemed rather downtrodden and Connor hesitated to reach out the way Hank had for him when he'd needed comfort, but decided against at the last moment. Instead, he chose to make his voice supportive and said: "You'll be all right, Keats."

"Thanks, Connor."

The sound of his name on Keats' tongue surprised him and Connor quickly followed Markus out of the house without saying another word. The ride back to New Jericho was quiet for the both of them, and while Markus stared out the window contemplatively with the slender green book held close to his chest, Connor had both hands clenched in his lap and thoughts circling in his mind. Keats had known who he was, despite Connor not telling him his name. He must've known he was talking to the deviant hunter. He must've known what Connor had done.

So why had he been so kind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 04/06/2019 -
> 
> Connor, running away in the night with Markus : Be gay, do crime  
> Also Connor : Why the fuck is everyone being nice and grateful to me what the fuck what the fuck
> 
> Hey pumpkin! And another all-nighter in the face. I'm never going to recover from this stupid cold! At least this time the chief let me eat. Also, just want to say I love you pumpkins a lot, because you're super duper nice to me and I thrive on your positive comments! I also wanted to thank you for the 100+ subscriptions to my fic, 4000+ hits, and very nearly 300 kudos! It makes me very happy to know that so many people took the time to tell me they liked this story.
> 
> And finally, happy pride month to those who celebrate it! I tend to get mixed up in all the different orientations and genders, but whatever you identify as, just know that I support you and hope life is kind to you.  
> It's also PTSD awareness month, so if you have PTSD, I wish you a lot of courage and a beautiful future. Take good care of yourself <3
> 
> Onto the chapter! This was kinda sad, huh.  
> Here's an alternative version of that one part in this chapter to cheer you up: "Oh, it's many things. I couldn't pick one even if I tried." "There isn't one in particular?" "There might be." Markus and Connor then proceeded to eye-fuck each other a little, until he spoke again a full ten seconds later. "And you?"  
> I mean, it would be canon-compliant. Have you _seen_ the way they gaze directly into each other's eyes for several seconds in the game, when Markus wishes Connor good luck before he leaves for the CyberLife Tower? That is NOT platonic staring.
> 
> Anyway.  
> Look at those RK brothers being brothers, isn't it adorable? Connor can try to deny it all he wants, Nines is definitely growing on him.  
> The North-Nines rivalry will never get old.  
> Uh-oh, 40% stress levels on the daily? That's not good. 30% isn't good either. Both of these boys have issues.  
> Connor finally told Markus part of what's up! Deviancy's difficult, yo. He should try to be a little more like Markus : at least when Markus gets asked a question about a touchy subject, he doesn't clam up completely and is still willing to continue the discussion.  
> It was about time Carl came into the story, but since this is mostly Connor POV, I needed Markus to show him that bird painting to get on that track. They weren't close enough before for that to happen, but now they're really starting to warm up to each other! Told you they'd have a bro moment. It's a sad one, sure, but it still counts. At least Connor isn't pissed, for once. He's just deeply disturbed, as always when it's about feelings and relationships. Family? What in tarnation?!  
> Also don't you just love it when our two boys run away in the night to do stuff behind everyone's backs? Yeah, me too. Connor, you sly dog.  
> All right, show of hands, who would totally bring Keats back home to shower him with love and affection? It seems I tend to make androids with the least screen time in the game to be the most adorable mofos to ever walk Detroit.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	25. Leader/Companion

It had started snowing in Detroit again. Temperatures had fallen below zero degrees celsius and gone past the notable treshold of minus ten in a matter of hours, so North and Simon had ceased their respective occupations to install barrels of combustible materials they'd... borrowed from nearby stores all around New Jericho to prepare for the night. Androids could voluntarily raise their core temperature to adapt to harsh weather, but this required processing power that they couldn't spare in standby mode. They were also less prone to freezing outside, since the freezing point of thirium was lower than water's, but it was still a possibility and many of their more delicate mechanisms could not withstand such low temperatures in the long run. The warmth provided by the small fires was a safeguard against frozen hardware and the shutdown that could result from it. The cold had halted all of New Jericho's usual activities, save for the infirmary's and the psych eval center's. Now that the barrels had been lit at every corner of the camp, where there was no risk for anything to catch on fire, both North and Simon had chosen to stay there to talk with their people. The atmosphere was muffled by the falling snow, but unlike the one that had hung over Jericho's hold, the camp's was cozy and pleasant. 

Markus was standing in front of one such fire next to Josh's quarters. From where he stood, he could sometimes catch glimpses of the leader exiting the center to call in his next patient, and they sometimes nodded at each other in acknowledgment. He'd seen North and Simon pass by once, and they'd seemed so engrossed in their conversation that Markus hadn't tried to attract their attention. He looked around at the different faces that encircled the barrel as they basked in the soft glow of the low flames, just like he was doing. It wasn't often he spent this much time with other androids besides his four advisors, because he was so busy with meetings and reports and press conferences and android law amendments that he simply couldn't take the time to. The drop in temperatures had put a stop to his frantic running around, at least for the moment. He revelled in it. Breaks came too rarely and never lasted long, because he couldn't allow himself this luxury for more than minutes at a time before guilt crept up on him, whispering that he wasn't doing enough, that there were other things he needed to see to, that a good leader didn't laze around while his people waited to be completely free of the humans' grasp. 

The only times he fully allowed himself to take some time off was when he had an excuse to do so: it was usually to spend time with Connor in an attempt to deepen their relationship (which was no easy feat), or with North when she sought him out either to give or take reassurance, or with Josh when he felt the need to discuss interesting subjects he'd come across during his days as a lecturer's assistant. Right now, it was the cold which had forced him to step out of his quarters since they couldn't light fires inside cabins. Markus should've been writing up more reports in his mind even as he stood there, but a good leader didn't ignore the androids that needed to speak to him. They seemed happy to see him in their midst, the way things had been when they were only dozens of androids gathered in a discarded ship or an abandoned church. Several asked him if there had been any recent development in androids' rights and he tried to reign in the irritation that such questions sparked in him- if there had been any, didn't they realize they'd be the first to be informed of it?- and others asked him if he was doing all right, which were questions that he appreciated a lot more. It was good to know that at least some androids hadn't forgotten that he wasn't just the 'messiah' media depicted him as. He hadn't always been Markus the Deviant Leader, after all.

Without meaning to, Markus lost himself in his thoughts even as he was surrounded by soft voices and the distant lull of conversation. There were at least two different matters constantly circling around in his mind whenever he was awake, and they almost always concerned the current context he was leading androids in. He wasn't sure he was making as good progress as before in his meetings with the President. The American Androids Act had quickly been adjusted so that androids were not required to be clearly identified, but they were still forbidden from carrying or using any kind of weapon. There was also the debate of allowing androids to have their own official area to live in, and Markus wasn't about to give up Hart Plaza after everything that had happened here. In fact, he was thinking of expanding their territory to the buildings that surrounded it sooner than later, no matter what humans thought of it. He couldn't just let his people live in the same cramped spaces as more and more androids poured in through New Jericho's doors every day. Markus was glad that Connor was at his side for every negotiation and press conference; the RK800's speech held many nuances compared to North's (which was mostly limited to shades of 'humans bad, androids good' and 'don't agree? go die in a ditch'), which allowed them a wider array of options when they had to answer to more delicate questions such as whether androids deserved the same right as humans, or whether they were faking their feelings or not, and many others that were just as pleasant.

Markus had quickly found that while leading millions of androids through a revolution had been nothing short of a feat, leading them through something that wasn't a revolution was an even greater ordeal.

He still harboured doubts and regrets about how he'd lead the revolution even now that it was over. Markus feared that he hadn't liberated androids the right way. Many had died for their cause, and there had been human casualties too. Not only had the deaths piled up on both sides of the conflict, but Markus wasn't sure if he'd done well to convert androids to deviancy the way he had. It had been easy, and empowering, each time he'd gestured towards yet another android and freed them from their code during the Freedom March. He didn't know why there'd been a change in that moment; he didn't know why he'd been allowed the power to convert androids by dozens at a distance, when only hours before he'd had to hold their hand to free them. They'd all followed him without question, like lambs behind their shepherd, and he understood why media compared him to a messiah. Still, he was uneasy. It had been necessary to their cause, but it didn't feel right and even frightened him at times that he had done such a thing so easily. Now that everything had settled down, he hoped that these androids would learn to live for themselves instead of following him without question. Maybe they'd criticize his role as leader; he'd welcome it. It was better to lead the sentient beings androids were supposed to be than lead a flock of sheep. 

And then amidst all these androids, there was the one Markus hadn't been able to convert wordlessly from afar, nor through the touch of a white hand. CyberLife's then most recent android, a state-of-the-art investigative prototype, the deviant hunter on the news, the shadow tracking down Jericho's location, the RK800 with a gun who could have stopped it all: Connor. He was a mystery. Why CyberLife had been monitoring his software instabilities, why Markus had needed to convince him into deviating through words when the usual methods had mysteriously failed him, why he was struggling so much with deviancy, Markus wasn't certain. All he knew was that Connor fascinated him in the same way a child was fascinated by a character from a fantasy tale. Markus knew the RK800 was an android just like him, he was aware that they came from the same line of prototypes, and he'd rapidly considered him an ally; yet part of him still considered Connor like the threat that had hovered over their heads during that fateful week, the predator that had closed in on Markus without him even realizing it until they'd been standing face to face, the monster called deviant hunter that androids had learned to fear. Markus wasn't sure he'd ever manage to get rid of this image he had of Connor, despite his best intentions to consider the RK800 as just another fellow android. What he was sure about was that he would never let Connor know about this. Markus was convinced that if he ever did, it would break any and all chance of getting to know Connor better.

Markus felt guilty of perceiving Connor this way. It wasn't just being a leader that was difficult; being a good companion to those he cared for was as well. Sometimes Markus found it hard to keep a distinct line between advisor and companion when he interacted with his co-leaders.

 

As an advisor, Connor was pure efficiency and calculated cool. As a companion... Well, he wasn't exactly a companion, even though it was only a matter of time as far as Markus was concerned.

Markus' stubborn mind kept holding onto the deviant hunter's frightening reputation, but his heart wanted Connor to feel accepted, and he'd tried to make sure the other android was doing all right more times than he could count. He'd never gotten very far. Every time Markus thought he and Connor made progress, there were two possible outcomes; either Connor would shut him out like it had been the case with the glitch, either Connor would accept to talk to him but remain incredibly guarded. The only notable advance Markus had made in the first weeks was that Connor didn't seem completely overcome by guilt each time they were alone and was slightly more at ease when talking to him. It wasn't like he could hold Connor responsible for the slow progress; after all, Markus would be uneasy too if he had to talk the person who had hung him up limbless on a wall for a full week. Connor didn't seem to hold a grudge against him because of that, but Markus could hold it for him. He despised himself for having inflicted that on him even if they'd had no other choice, and it still struck him as strange that Connor did not show an ounce of resentment for having been trapped in his body without his consent.

Despite the guilt he felt for what he'd done to him, Markus greatly appreciated having Connor at his side. After their getaway to Carl's house, Markus was ready to consider Connor a friend; however, to be friends with someone, the feeling had to be mutual and Markus could tell that this wasn't the case. Conversation between them may have become easier, but Connor continued to put the brakes on it whenever things got too personal. Most annoyingly, Connor seemed ready to bolt whenever Markus tried to tell him that he cared about him, but then would listen to all of North's negative comments about him and nearly nod in agreement. It drove Markus crazy. It was like Connor was intolerant to anything positive they had to say about him. Markus was worried for him and this wasn't anything new; he'd been worried for him ever since he'd seen that panicked, terrified expression on his face when Connor had woken up to the sight of the three leaders and Hank sitting at his side. That was the kind of fear that left scars behind, and Markus knew it couldn't have simply disappeared along with the threat of Connor's AI.

Markus also knew this fear wasn't the only thing Connor struggled with, but after days of insisting that Connor share his problems with him he'd figured out that insisting, in fact, did not help at all. The more Markus pried, the less Connor was willing to talk, and so he ceased asking about it. Not completely, of course, because sometimes he still managed to convince Connor to speak like the time he'd admitted having a difficult time with deviancy, but he could tell Connor felt better when he cut him some slack. At least their relationship had become more of a pleasant one, and Connor's resistance to deepening it didn't dissuade Markus from considering him a friend. Markus was also pleased to see Connor interact on a daily basis with Nines and Josh with more ease than he displayed towards anyone else. Although Nines was clearly the android Connor trusted the most out of all of New Jericho, he also got along well with Josh. Well, he did when Josh wasn't pestering him about how he was feeling and how he should come at the psych eval center some time. Markus wasn't the one to use the term 'pestering'; Connor probably did. Unlike Markus, Josh never relented.

 

As an advisor, Josh was peace and forgiveness, always ready to pick the option that would least offend the humans as long as androids stood their ground. As a companion he was calm and steady, so long as he wasn't fighting with North. 

Josh was compassionate and accepting of all androids, which was a personality trait Markus had quickly chosen to imitate. He wondered if the revolution would have turned out so well if Josh hadn't been at his side, telling him the solution was peace. Despite Josh's constant disagreement about revealing the existence of their group of deviants, he'd been a steady anchor throughout it all determined to make their cause one that wouldn't be stained with blood. Markus was glad to have listened to him; he had a lot of deaths on his conscience already and didn't know if he could have handled any more. Josh had had his doubts during the revolution, when he'd been scared by the amount of androids that had died and by the speed at which their resources depleted, but he'd continued supporting Markus in his efforts to claim their freedom despite this fear. The attack on Jericho had nearly killed him too, and Markus thanked rA9 he'd made it in time to save him. Josh had been nothing but encouraging in the decisions Markus took after that.

Josh wasn't afraid to face death: he'd kept watch over many dying androids during his time in Jericho and had seen them all shut down one by one. What Josh was afraid of was useless deaths, blood on his hands, gratuitous violence which North seemed so eager to bring down on the humans' heads. He and Simon often had a forlorn look in their eyes whenever they talked about the recall centers, and Josh was visibly still disturbed by the fact they'd killed human soldiers aboard the Jericho, even if he'd kept any reproach he had to himself. Sometimes, Markus even wondered if Josh would have been able to kill the soldier that had attacked him if he'd had the chance. Or maybe he had already passed up on it, and that was why Markus had found him in such a dangerous predicament. Markus hoped that wasn't the case.

The fights between Josh and North had been a source of tension in the group since the beginning and they could get remarkably heated, which was surprising considering how composed an individual Josh usually was. Fortunately Simon could always stop them before it went too far and Markus could too, just not as efficiently. North always went to sulk in her corner after a quarrel, and Josh usually crossed his arms and sighed the way a disappointed parent would, which only made North angrier.

 

As an advisor, North was full of fight and fiery strength, but most importantly she was never afraid to point out the flaws in his reasoning. As a companion, she was headstrong and truthful. Her agressive ways were often completely opposite to his, but she had the uncanny ability to call both Josh and Markus out when they refused to see a threat for what it was. It was often because they didn't want to act if it meant neutralizing it, just like it had been the case for Connor when they'd first found him. Of course, she wasn't an easy person to be around. She was too irascible, her language could get pretty foul, and she jumped to conclusions much too fast. Markus had honestly considered giving her time-outs on a few occasions, when she got too agitated and started yelling at Josh, but that was too ridiculous to be a viable solution.

Despite her difficult moods, Markus cared for her. Maybe his caretaker programming was responsible in part for the concern he showed her, since he knew there was something broken inside of her and wanted to fix that. But it was about much more than simple programming and the roots of their relationship ran deep: they'd barely met and she'd been the first to volunteer when he'd explained his dangerous plan to raid the CyberLife Warehouse. She'd been the one to incite both Josh and Simon to come with them, and she'd been ready to help him get the key to the truck filled with spare parts even if that meant risking her life for the dying androids in Jericho. She'd been the one to volunteer to climb Stratford Tower's walls with him, even as she knew they'd be hanging from a single wire and buffeted by the cold wind two thousand feet above the ground. She'd planted the flag at the top of Capitol Park with him and the smile she'd offered him that night had spurred him on. Everything she'd done was for her brethren; she'd cried for the deviants shot down in the street when the police had tried to stop them from breaking the androids out of the stores. She'd stayed at his side during the revolution even when he kept disagreeing with her, she hadn't liked which path he'd taken but had risked her life with him nonetheless, and she'd always tried to help their cause in her own way.

Her lack of remorse for killing humans was fearsome and North could be tiring with her daily bursts of anger, but she was a loyal companion and Markus liked her too much to stay mad at her. This wasn't about to change now that the revolution was over. Besides, Simon seemed to have found a way to calm her down: a hand on her arm and the amount of decibels coming from her mouth would drop at least halfway, a small frown and she'd concede that maybe she'd been in the wrong (though such a concession often came through gritted teeth and was coupled with eyes that flashed with murderous intent). Markus had no idea how Simon had done it, but he could respect that.

 

As an advisor, Simon was caution and safety, quieter than both North and Josh but ever present as the voice of reason. They all trusted him and respected him because he was the one with the most experience, and maybe he'd even been amongst the first androids to deviate. As a companion, Markus had lost him. Something had shifted between them ever since Simon had come back from the dead and it had taken about two days for Markus to understand that this shift was permanent. It was like losing him all over again and Markus wished he knew how to get back to the way things were before.

Simon had been the one to welcome Markus when he'd fallen into Jericho's moldy hold. He'd given him a shelter without asking any questions, just like he'd picked so many others off the ground before him, and he'd tried to help every single deviant that landed there. Simon had been the one to allow Markus' plan to get the spare parts on the very first day of his arrival and had trusted him with this important mission, and consequently his life, despite the fact that he hadn't gotten to know Markus at that point. Then Simon had trusted him again for the broadcast plan, and it had gotten him killed. Just like North, he'd been willing to die for androids' freedom, but his blue eyes had been desperate to live when the three of them had hesitated on that rooftop between shooting him or not. The fact that Markus had even hesitated in the first place was unforgivable, even if they'd been under pressure and running scared. He didn't even know how Simon had it in him to talk to North now when she'd suggested killing him. He didn't know how Simon had it in him to talk to any one of them, yet he did.

Markus had rapidly understood why Simon had grown so distant and where he'd made his mistake: on the fateful night they'd decided to let Connor live, Markus' inadvertent words had wounded Simon. That Markus had forgiven the RK800 so easily despite everything he'd done both to androids in general and to Simon himself must have hurt him, and Markus had been unable to see that. Some friend he was. Markus felt like a complete brute for being so negligent of the PL600's feelings; obviously Simon was haunted by what Connor had manipulated him into doing, and Markus knew he blamed himself for Jericho just as much as Connor did. Both androids were guilt-ridden, though Markus believed Jericho was no one else's fault but his own. He wished he'd paid more attention to Simon's state of mind that night, but the sight of Connor's limbless body had still been fresh in his mind and it had been hard to focus on anything else. Even as he'd been talking with Simon in a calm voice and promised him that he would never be left behind again, there had been a struggle in his head where horrid memories writhed while he tried to push them back down through sheer will. And then in a terribly ironic way, just after promising him he wouldn't do it, Markus had left Simon alone to go hide in his quarters. Of course Simon had lost his trust in him after that. Markus couldn't forgive himself for abandoning his friend to his own demons when he'd been so clearly distressed. There was no excuse for it. He should have been stronger than those memories, stronger than the crawling feeling of his chassis at the junction between his thigh and his leg, stronger than the irrational need to flee the place where Connor was resting. 

 

When Connor had asked him why his stress levels were so high all the time, Markus hadn't given him a straight answer. The truth was that it was the very same reason why he'd balked upon hearing the RK800's second query about why he'd been so uneasy when faced with Connor's limbless form. Markus thought about that stormy night all the time.

At times when he was tired he could feel his right eye move slower than the other, and his leg would sent him odd feedback that was decidedly unpleasant. There were no RK200 biocomponents to replace these with, and even if there had been, Markus wasn't sure he would have chosen to do it. Part of him believed this was his penance, the price for usurping lives that didn't belong to him. The worst had been to realize that there was a perfectly usable pump regulator on one of the corpses that littered the landfill after he'd just ripped the one he had in his chest from that broken AX400. Her song haunted him, twisted by static and the phantom of her desperate pleas for mercy. He'd killed her, and many others. Androids that had been under his command which he'd failed to protect when they'd fallen one by one under a hail of bullets. John, who had sacrificed himself to save his life. Those who had still been walking Detroit as machines when the humans had started regrouping them in recall centers, which Markus hadn't converted in time. Jericho's inhabitants, gunned down and blown to pieces because he'd failed to evacuate them all. The half-dead bodies in the landfills they couldn't bring back for lack of ressources. 

Markus carried many lives on his shoulders, but also many ghosts.

Before, Markus had relied on Carl to guide him. He'd told his father about his doubts, about his fears, but when he'd returned there for the second time he'd been unable to tell him about what he'd done. Carl didn't know about the hell Markus had had to crawl out of. Carl had noticed the odd eye, but because Markus hadn't said anything about it, the human must have chosen to respect his silence and he hadn't asked. There weren't a billion reasons why Markus didn't want to talk about it; he felt like a monster, and that was all it was. He'd survived where so many others hadn't, but it wasn't him who had paid the price for defying death; it was that AX400. Markus was horrified by the memory of the landfill, but he couldn't allow himself to grovel in his self-pity. He wasn't the one who had suffered most. All those broken androids, with their red LEDs sputtering desperately to stay alight and their desperate cries to be saved, that wall of hands that had strived to hold him back in the land of the dead, the android that had used his last sliver of energy to tell him where to go and the android that had demanded to know where he was leaving. He could hear the hiss of resentment in his ear, laden with jealousy for the fact that Markus was whole and that the android was not. He'd climbed the cliff of corpses and left the others scrambling below with their defective limbs and failing pumps. Survival of the fittest; and the fittest had left everyone else to die out, slowly but surely, as he had selfishly left to find a shelter.

Back then, Markus had been relieved when he'd dragged himself out of that pit, relieved to be able to feel the water trickling down his face, and the cold surface beneath his knees; to be able to see the precise outlines of his surroundings, and to hear the howling storm and the soft patter of every single drop of rain hitting the litter-covered ground. It was in this moment that the horror had subsided to be replaced by something new and grand, when he'd understood he was meant to be something more than just a machine. It was in this moment that he'd fully realized the weight of his own name: he was Markus, and he was _alive_. The Markus back then had started to live for the first time. The Markus now was swamped with stress and the obligation to do better, and he wondered if that dizzying feeling of freedom would ever return to him. 

Carl was on his deathbed, and no amount of wishing would change that. Markus relied on him for counsel, more than he did with anyone else, and the knowledge that Carl would one day vanish sent irrational fear coursing through his circuits. He didn't know what a world without Carl was. The thought sent his pump racing, and he felt like the ground was opening beneath his feet, that he was falling alone and endlessly in the dark with no one there to catch him. Markus was afraid, but no one else could know that and he had to stay strong. It was a small comfort to think that at the very least, he'd finally told Carl about his feelings. Neither of them were oblivious to how much love there was between them and it was reassuring to Markus that his father knew that. They hadn't talked about Markus' appearance, but they'd discussed many things that he'd never even considered in his time as a machine. It had lifted his spirits, even if his heart was heavy, and he'd felt more tears spring forth when Carl had opened his thin arms to welcome him into an embrace before he left. His father's body was frail and his skin too cool to be healthy, but Markus could hear the thrumming of his bloodstream in his neck, and the deep vibrations of his gravelly voice against his chest, and the irregular beat of a human's living heart next to the steady whirring of an android's functioning pump. Carl was alive, and so was Markus. Carl loved him, and so did Markus. Their connection ran deeper than ever and Markus was grateful that he'd been able to realize this as he held his father in his arms. And it was thanks to Connor he'd seen Carl again so soon.

The thought of their trip the other night made Markus' lips twitch in amusement when he remembered how quick Connor's reply had been when he'd expressed his doubts. How strange it was that Connor, who seemed to be the most uptight of them all, was ready to go behind the others' backs without an ounce of hesitation. Markus hadn't thought him the type, but until that moment they hadn't really gotten to know each other, and he certainly didn't mind it since it had allowed him to do what he'd wished to ever since the revolution had ended. Because the other leaders were so adamant about him not setting a foot outside New Jericho unless absolutely necessary, he hadn't mentioned Carl's state to them. In the end, Connor was the only one who knew about this particular concern of his, and Markus wondered why he'd trusted him so easily with this knowledge- or even why he trusted him so easily at all. There was something about Connor that made it natural. Maybe it was his confident air, or his collected stance, or his straightforward gaze. Maybe it was simply because his comely features had been designed to inspire friendliness. Maybe Markus had just fallen for this ruse on their first encounter without fully realizing that he was, in fact, talking to a remarkably efficient negotiator that had been created for the sole purpose of manipulating others. Whatever the reason, Markus did not regret trusting Connor; it had only led to good things so far. The main issue was getting Connor to trust them. They worked together, and their relationship was pleasant, but Markus had the feeling that Connor meant to keep things at a surface layer between himself and anyone else. It wasn't difficult to see how uneasy it made the RK800 whenever he was faced with something more private, be it witnessing another individual's deeper feelings or showing his own. Markus had seen it at Carl's, he'd seen it during the glitch, he'd seen it when Connor had woken up without his limbs. Connor was usually very put together until he was forced to deal with emotions.

Markus' gaze idly roamed over the thousands of androids that were more or less in standby mode, and then his eyes focused when a sudden suspicion started nagging at his mind. Connor had made his report to him about two hours ago, and that was usually the time when he excused himself and returned to the charging station, but Markus had told him they were going to light fires for the night and had explicitely ordered him to spend it in New Jericho. Connor had balked at first, but Markus hadn't left him a choice. Electricity to their part of the city had been cut off last week since there were no humans there to pay the bills anymore; androids were surviving on backup power sources and had redirected the flow to the more important circuits such as charging pods, but heating and lighting systems in the abandoned buildings of Detroit were now mostly faulty, and it was the case in Connor's charging station as well. 

Markus stepped away from the barrel and started walking around New Jericho. He told himself he was probably worrying for nothing, that surely Connor was able to put his own safety before his discomfort in regards to other androids. When he realized that the RK800 was nowhere to be seen, Markus cursed to himself and picked up the pace to head straight for Connor's quarters. He reached it a few seconds later and thumped on the door.

"Connor, are you in there?"

He didn't get an answer, and entered the cabin anyway. He wasn't surprised to see the RK800 standing in the corner, eyes closed, LED gently spinning a blue circle from time to time. 

"You idiot," Markus muttered under his breath. 

He walked up to Connor and touched his shoulder to wake him up. Connor's eyes fluttered open, his LED briefly flashing red before reverting to yellow, and then he frowned at him in confusion.

"Markus? What are you doing here?"

"Sorry for waking you, but you can't spend the night here," he answered shortly, choosing not to call him out for the red LED. "Why do you think I told you we were lighting fires? You're already colder than the Detroit River and it's only been two hours since you went into standby mode."

"It's been two hours and twelve minutes," the other corrected him with a hint of challenge in his voice.

Markus narrowed his eyes at him warningly. "Don't be smart, Connor. You're coming with me."

"No."

Markus had already turned away and the surprise stopped him in his tracks. His head swivelled to Connor and he echoed: "No?"

Connor's jaw was set. "I can't go into standby with all those androids nearby."

"Why not?"

"It doesn't matter why."

Markus stepped back up to him to study the slight hunch of his shoulders and the tense stance of his body. This wasn't just stubborness. Connor was clearly on the defensive, but Markus had no idea why he was behaving like this. 

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Connor looked away and didn't answer. The expression on his face could have been anger, but it could also have been fear or sadness or any other negative emotion. It was too difficult to guess what he was thinking like this, without the means to interface, and the color of his LED wasn't helping since it had gone to yellow as soon as he'd woken up.

Markus gave him some space and gestured towards the door. "I could go get Nines, if you'd like. I don't know why you're so adamant about avoiding other androids, but you'd feel more at ease if he was there, right?"

"Can't you just let me stay here?" Connor asked quietly, still staring at the ground.

"No," answered Markus in an obvious tone of voice. "I don't know what you're playing at, but you can't just go into stasis for hours in this kind of cold, you know that."

He looked up at him with indignant eyes. "Of course I know that, Markus. I was going to come out of stasis halfway through the cycle to raise my core temperature. I know what I'm doing, I don't need you to look after me like this."

"It would be much simpler if you just came with us."

Connor huffed, and it was strange to witness this kind of irritation in the otherwise collected android. "Listen, I'm already warming up as we speak and I'm not in any danger. Can't you leave me alone?"

Markus stared at him, feeling simultaneously puzzled and concerned. "I'm just looking out for you."

"I don't need to be looked out for," Connor retorted. 

"Why do you always react like this as soon as I show you the slightest bit of concern?"

Now he looked really frustrated. "Markus, please leave. I don't want to argue with you."

Markus was starting to feel the same way. Why was it that nearly every time he tried to make sure of Connor's well-being, he ended up annoying him? It wasn't like arguing was fun for either of them, but somehow it was where they always ended up. Markus could leave Connor behind and keep their relationship steady, or force him to spend the night somewhere warmer than this empty cabin. He had two choices.

GIVE UP  
**INSIST**

It wasn't like this would dash all of Markus' chances to one day establish a friendship with Connor.

"No, come on. It's just for this one night," he said, and took him by the arm to drag him forward.

He hadn't expected Connor to stumble or the way the RK800 jerked out of his grip like his hand was made of white-hot metal. For a moment they faced each other in silence, one tense and ready to fight, the other immobile in surprise with his hand still up in the air. The LED was red, red, red, and Connor's eyes had a haunted look in them that he couldn't quite hide from Markus. Then he straightened and dropped his arms at his sides with a neutral expression, as if nothing had ever happened, while Markus' eyes followed his movement. There was an uncomfortable silence during which the LED frantically circled a bright yellow, and then slowed down to a calmer pace.

Markus finally lowered his hand and said: "I didn't mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me," immediately answered Connor. His voice was steady and smooth, and Markus quickly recognized it to be the one he'd used to many other times, notably during his interrogation.

"I did," insisted Markus. "I'm sorry, I had no idea I was going to startle you like that."

"There's nothing to apologize for."

"Connor, stop it."

"Stop what?" asked Connor levelly. There wasn't even a flicker in the other's emotionless facade and he just kept staring at him. 

Markus stared back. Another moment of silence, and then: "Whatever I did wrong, you have to tell me so it won't happen again."

"You didn't scare me," repeated Connor, slightly louder this time, even if his expression didn't change.

"You can't just pretend nothing happened."

This time he didn't answer. Neither of them looked away. After what felt like a full minute of just staring at each other, Markus was the first to give in.

"All right, so maybe you can. You're good at that, unfortunately." He glanced at the charging pod behind Connor, and then back at his face. "Your temperature's back to normal and you probably have it under control, but if it gets any colder in the next days, you'll be spending the night next to a fire like every single other android in this camp. Do you understand?"

"Yes," he answered curtly.

Markus hesitated a bit, and then added: "Look, I can tell there's something that's troubling you. You know you can't pretend forever, don't you?"

Connor opened his mouth to answer, but he decided against it and remained silent. Still, it was something. Maybe Markus could still get to him.

"I don't want to make a wrong move again just because I don't know what my mistake was the first time, so I'm asking you to take this step even if you don't want to do it. It'll be better for the both of us in the long run. You can see that, right?"

Connor finally broke eye contact with him and his hand started moving up, but then he seemed to realize what he was doing and aborted the motion. He stayed quiet.

"Just do this little thing, and I'll lay off, I promise," softly insisted Markus.

Connor's body was still rigid but he did talk, and his answer was spoken in such a low voice that Markus had to strain his hearing to catch it.

"... Don't grab my arm like that."

Markus' gazed darted to the other's left limb as if it could tell him the reason behind Connor's demand, and then back up at the android's blank face. He quickly nodded and said: "Of course, I won't do it again."

Connor didn't look at him. "Could you leave now?"

Markus felt himself tense. He really didn't want to abandon Connor like this, because this situation was reminiscent of the night he'd left Simon behind which had lead to whatever it was they were at the present, but a promise was a promise. Connor would definitely be cross with him if he went back on his word now.

"Okay. Will you send me a message if anything happens?"

Connor gave a slight nod, which was the extent of his response. Markus shot him one last troubled look and then left the cabin. He really didn't like that Connor preferred to risk freezing over other androids' company, even if Connor insisted that this risk was nonexistant. Not only had Markus failed to convince him to come along, but he didn't even know why it was a problem in the first place and had even managed to further mess up the situation by doing something as stupid as trying to drag him out of his room. 

Markus looked up at the inky skies to search for an answer among the stars blinking in the cold air, and ended up feeling like even more of an insignificant fool beneath the night's endless dome. He wished he would stop making so many mistakes. He wished he knew why he'd caused such a visceral reaction in Connor. He wished he could understand him.  
It clearly wasn't going to happen any time soon, but Markus wasn't one to give up so easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 11/06/2019 -
> 
> Markus: I swear to rA9 I will befriend the **fuck** out of you  
> Connor: Thanks but I already have friends  
> Connor: They're called Anxiety and Depression
> 
> Hey pumpkin.  
> This was me just yesterday: "Are you kidding me? My dumb ass just realized that the androids in the Tower were AP700s and not fucking LM100s!" And I only realized that because I read emilia25's latest [fic](https://emiliaf25.tumblr.com/post/185489659194/what-if-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo-ooo), which was hilarious mind you and I feel like you should all take gander at it which is why I'm putting the link there.  
> (Don't worry I went back and edited it all)
> 
> Also IMPORTANT INFO : I put up a [poll](https://twitter.com/losttanuki/status/1138391602882338817) on my Twitter for something concerning Sixty, so please go there if you want to help me plot some stuff for this fic. (It's the reason I created my Twitter account in the first place.)  
> If you don't have Twitter, I made a similar post on [Tumblr](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/185516992783/dbh-fics-gml): you can also contribute to the story by replying there if you want!
> 
> Other IMPORTANT INFO: it just struck me that I never told you guys this, but if you have ideas for this fic you're welcome to share! I can't guarantee I'll use every suggestion, but you can either write them in the comments or send me an ask on Tumblr.  
> (That reminds me, anon who sent me a very cute ask about appreciating my fic, if you're reading this thank you again! It was a nice surprise and you're the first to use that function on my blog)
> 
> Completely unrelated but very true: I have adopted yet another fictional son and his name is Wylan Van Eck (he's from the book Six of Crows). He is a smart, courageous, precious bean and my love for him is both undying and unconditional.
> 
> Yeah so this chapter, huh. This wasn't the one I was supposed to post but in the end my brain was like "Hey you know what? We haven't got enough Markus POV in here, so you should write a whole new chapter starting now. Who knows, you might be able to update on the day you wanted to!"  
> The answer is no. I did not update in the day I wanted to. This is close enough though. I hope you like it!  
> They brought out the barrels again. These things are everywhere. Is it really that common to find barrels in Detroit? I mean I get it when they're in the ship, but they got some within the barricades too during Battle for Detroit.  
> Markus likes all his friends but Simon is a bit of a complicated situation. And he also really likes North, maybe because he likes a challenge? My boy just wants to make friends with _everyone_.  
> Connor may be bad with genuine social interaction, but Markus is also a bit of a klutz when it comes to looking out for his friends. Like, he wants to, but as deviant leader he's got so many issues that it makes it difficult to be completely invested in those relationships. He easily makes mistakes, too.  
> And of course he messed up with Connor again. Don't give up, Markus!
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	26. Fight! Fight!

Hank woke up with a snort and laid still in the dark bedroom. He blinked groggily, wondering if he'd had a nightmare or something, but his heart wasn't racing the way it usually did and he wasn't sweaty. There was nothing wrong, so prepared to go back to sleep when he heard it: a whimper coming from the other side of the house. Sumo. Hank was instantly alert, throwing off his covers and cautiously getting off the bed. He went to grab his gun and stepped up to the door, slowly opening it to listen in on the sounds of the house. Something was shifting and dragging in the house, and an unnatural whirring sound reached his ears which sent a shudder down his spine. He retreated and hastily took his phone to send Connor a message. The screen indicated the time was 1:14 AM. One in the fucking morning and Hank didn't want anything to do with the mechanical thing roaming around his house, but he had a fair idea of what it could be and didn't want to die tonight, so he steeled himself to face the threat before the threat found him.

He slipped the phone in the pocket of his sweatpants and went back to the door, quietly pushing it open and praying to the gods that it wouldn't creak this time. The gods weren't shit because it did creak, but at least they had the leniency to have the machine in his house hit the wall at the same time, effectively cancelling out the offending sound. Now the question was why the machine was hitting the goddamn wall.

Hank cautiously stepped out in the hallway, aiming his gun towards the red light that spilled from the living room. The same whirring rose in intensity and there was some kind of high-pitched keen that sounded like static, which was briefly followed by a few slaps until it died down. Sumo was nowhere to be seen and Hank hoped nothing had happened to his dog. He quietly approached the source of the sounds until he rounded the corner and was greeted with the disturbing sight of a humanoid shape slumped on the ground.

"What the fuck...?" he exhaled, and the android's head turned to him.

"Lieuttttennnnant," it slurred, and he recognized Connor's distorted voice.

The android slowly moved to its feet, the ring in the middle of his chest glowing an angry red beneath his stained shirt, and the scene looked like it was straight out of a horror film. Hank hastily stepped back to hit the switch before he found himself at very disadvantageous odds were a fight to break out, and when light flooded the living room he recognized the android right away. It could have been Connor, but Connor wouldn't have called him Lieutenant if he was in that state. The RK800 was a mess with half of his face missing, and even though his body seemed to be whole, there were chunks of his chassis that had been caved in and Hank thought he heard a weird rattling sound come from there. Sumo was lying down right next to him and looked absolutely fine, although maybe a little cowed.

"I'm nottt here to hurt you," said the android as he slowly raised his arms.

Hank scoffed. "Yeah, no shit, you look like you got run over by a train. What the hell happened to you?"

"I can explainnn later, I need-" His voice was cut off by another high-pitched screech and they both flinched. The android violently hit his own throat until the horrible sound died down and continued: "I needddd repairs."

"Are you about to shut down?"

"In twenttty-four minnnutes."

"You're not gonna kill me, right?" Hank didn't think that was the android's goal considering the state he was in, but still. Better safe than sorry.

"I don't intennnd to."

Hank lowered his gun, and the android lowered his arms. "Sixty, right?"

"Modddel number 60, yes."

"Okay, gotta get you to Jericho before you keel over," decided Hank, and he took out his phone to call Connor who picked up the call instantly.

"Hank? Are you all right? Is it him?"

"Calm down, I'm fine. It's Sixty all right, but he's damaged and says he needs help."

"Get away from him right now!"

"Did you hear what I said?"

"Hank, do _not_ underestimate him and get out of there!"

Sixty spoke up. "It's fine, Lieutenant, dddo what he tells you."

Hank shot him a look and sighed: "Okay, okay, Connor, I'm going outside right now. Honestly, you don't need to get your panties in a bunch like that."

"Just get out of the house," growled Connor in frustration.

He looked at Sixty. "Sorry about this, I'll make up for the lost time on the ride there." Sixty nodded silently and Hank stepped in the yard before speaking into the phone. "Alright, I'm outside, feelin' really stupid. I really don't see what the point to this is."

"You should be running away, but I see you don't really feel like surviving," Connor bit out.

"He's not a threat! Connor, seriously, relax." Just as he said those words, Hank saw a self-driving car pull up in his street. The call disconnected and Connor practically leaped out of the vehicle before sprinting up to him and grabbing him by the shoulders. 

"Woah, hey!"

The look in Connor's eyes was the one he got when he was scanning stuff, and it lasted for just a second before he focused on the house behind him. "He's in there?"

"Yeah, but-" Hank had barely said the two words that Connor was already gone. He hurried back inside, realizing that he hadn't told his friend about the countdown and suddenly worried that Connor would start whaling on the already broken android, and he saw that his concerns were justified when he witnessed Connor manhandle Sixty into the wall. Both LEDs were shining a bright red.

Connor's eyes were dangerously narrowed. "Why did you come here?"

Sixty's throat emitted static for the third time and Hank realized that pinned in that position, the android couldn't make his normal voice return like he'd done the other times, so he hastily told Connor : "He won't answer like that, there's something wrong with his throat."

Connor glanced at him and Sixty took advantage of that to headbutt him in the face. It made Connor falter long enough that the other could free his arm from his grasp and punch at his own neck, the static finally going silent and a frantic voice taking its place.

"I just nnneeded help! I'm going to shuttt down, don't ddddamage me any mmmore!"

Connor let go of him like he'd been burned and Sixty slumped against the wall with a weird whirring sound. 

"Shit, he's really messed up," breathed Hank when the RK800 struggled to push himself off the wall.

Connor's eyes narrowed. "Model number 60, run a systems check."

Sixty was still leaning against the wall but the mechanical response came anyway. "Damaged biocomponnnnents #8456w, #6342g, #6341j, #5101, #3202l, major ddddamage detected to the cranial front and tttemporal plates, major ddddamage detected to chest plates. Thiriummm levels at 70%, battery llllevels at 54%, stress levels at 74%. Systems overheattting. -00:22:31 before shutdddown."

"You satisfied now?" grumbled Hank. "Come on, we gotta get him to the others."

He stepped forward to help the RK800 stand when Connor stepped between them and pushed Hank back. "We're bringing him to New Jericho, but I'm the one staying close to him. You should go get the car."

Hank huffed an exasperated sigh and muttered: "He's not in any state to attack anyone, y'know," but he did what Connor said anyway and hastily got out to start the engine. 

Connor locked the door to the house behind them and dragged his double to the car, and once everyone had finally piled inside, Hank floored the accelerator pedal. Sixty wasn't an android he particularly cared for, but he wasn't going to let the guy die a second time when the first had been his fault. No one spoke during the ride, and the sound of the RK800's failing parts filled the silence in the creepiest of ways.

Hank glanced in the rearview mirror. "I didn't get anything of that technobabble earlier, just that it sounds like you've got a shit ton of issues. What's wrong with you exactly?"

Connor answered in the other's stead. "He's overheating because one of his mechanical lungs can't ventilate his systems anymore. His thirium pump regulator is also damaged."

"How'd you get this fucked up, anyway?" asked Hank.

"It's none of your businnnness," snapped the RK800, but the vitriol in his words was disminished by their slurring.

"Okay, okay."

Hank parked his car in the main street and went to loop his arm around Sixty to help Connor support him, but Connor barked at him to get away and Hank decided it would be best not to go against his friend when he saw the way his LED was flickering between red and yellow. Instead, he yelled at curious onlookers to scram so they could make their way towards the infirmary with better ease. The broken RK800's movements had become even more difficult and it was making their progress kind of tedious, until Nines joined them midway and lifted Sixty in his arms like he weighed next to nothing despite both androids being of nearly similar stature. This earned him an elbow to the jaw and an indignant shriek filled with static right into his ear.

"Put me ddddown!"

"No," simply refused Nines, and Sixty had no choice but to be carried the rest of the way by the stronger RK900. He did put up a hell of a fight for an android on the verge of a shutdown though.

When they entered the infirmary, all the other leaders had already gathered in the tent and Hank tried to repress the flare of distaste he felt upon seeing North there. He didn't try very long when she opened her big fat mouth to say what everyone probably expected her to say.

"Before we repair him, are we sure he's not dangerous?"

"For rA9's sake, North, look at him! He needs our help!" cried out Josh indignantly.

"I won't try to harmmm anyone, I just needdd a new regulator," said Sixty as he showed them the red ring in the middle of his chest. "Biocomponenttt #8456w."

Markus frowned. "That's not all you need."

Sixty looked up at him. "My other dddamaged components are #6342g, #6341j, #5101 and #3202l."

Hank had been told to stay in retreat and he was standing next to Simon, who was looking on with wide blue eyes as if he couldn't believe that the other RK800 he'd heard about actually existed and was right there in front of him. Connor was hovering next to Nines, Markus had his arms crossed over his chest and was standing at the end of the table Sixty was sitting on, and Josh and North were right in each other's faces and arguing like usual.

"You don't think it's suspicious that he only finally shows up here because he's damaged? How do you think that happened in the first place?"

"I don't know what you're implying exactly but you're being ridiculous, just get out of the way if you're not going to help!"

Markus shook his head in the background and moved away from the table.

"I'm here if he tries anything," Nines told North confidently. Both her and Sixty shot him a look, one of distaste and the other of caution. The RK800 was probably remembering the way Nines had tackled him in the snow behind Kamski's mansion.

"Uh, guys, he's only got like seven minutes left before shutdown so you might want to move your asses," commented Hank from his corner in the tent.

"Shut up, meat bag," hissed North. Hank was very tempted to do something violent implying his fist and her pretty little nose, but then Sixty spoke up.

"I don't want to ddddie," he said in his staticky voice, and those five universally fearful words seemed to do the trick. The feuding androids finally snapped out of their verbal match to stare at him.

Josh was the first to move. "I don't care what you think, we're repairing him."

North threw her hands in the air. "Like you ever care."

"Already getting the biocomponents," called Markus from somewhere on the right, and Hank saw relief spread across the left side of Sixty's features.

"I'll go get the soldering iron," said Simon, finally breaking out of his stupor and stepping away from Hank.

"You should go into stasis," Nines told the damaged RK800, who nodded and silently complied.

Considering how long it had taken them to fix Connor the last time, Hank was impressed to see them work so fast on Sixty, but then again Sixty didn't have a bullet in his head this time around. Hank was a bit grossed out when they opened up the RK800's throat to pull out his voice box and chose to sit down around that time, but other than that it was pretty fascinating to see them all at work repairing one of their own. They were done in under an hour and Nines volunteered to wake him up, and when he did Sixty bolted upright almost immediately. He looked panicked and Nines had to hold him in place until he realized where he was. Hank noticed that the RK900 grasped the other's forearm with his white hand and held on for a longer time than necessary, and then Sixty also seemed to notice and shot him a wary glance.

"It would only be to help you feel better," said Nines.

"It's fine, I don't need it," answered Sixty, and he retrieved his arm from the RK900's grasp.

Markus stepped forward and Nines let him take his place. "From what I've gathered, we can call you Sixty. Is that correct?"

Sixty looked disinterested. "If that's what you want. My name is Connor, but I imagine that's already taken." The last part was spoken with a disdainful glance towards Connor, who was standing tensely to the side. Hank could tell his friend wasn't at ease in Sixty's presence, and he didn't blame him after everything that had happened between the two. The whole CyberLife Tower shitshow, the rodeo at Kamski's, and Sixty showing up uninvited in his house in the middle of the night didn't make Hank very comfortable either.

"The last time we heard of you was about three weeks ago," continued Markus without missing a beat. "We were trying to find you, but neither North nor Josh were able to. Why were you hiding?"

Sixty narrowed his eyes at him. "I didn't know where to go and I didn't know who to trust. What else could I have done?"

"If you hadn't fled from Kamski's, you would have been welcome to stay here in New Jericho. The offer still stands."

A crooked smirk lifted the corner of the RK800's lips and he jerked his chin towards Nines and Connor. "They installed a killswitch in me and then proceeded to assault me when I surprisingly didn't agree with it, so I can't say I felt very welcomed."

"I warned you I would consider you a threat if you kept moving, and you didn't stop," Connor said with a stern frown.

Sixty rolled his eyes and Hank realized just how much more of a little shit Connor could have been. "Oh, yes, it's such a surprise when someone tries to get out of their restraints after they've just been told they can be deactivated at any moment because of the people in front of them. You can't blame me for wanting to take revenge."

"You were outnumbered, it was an extremely irrational move."

"Yes, which I realized upon being crushed by RK900. Did you know feelings could cloud one's judgement, Connor? I certainly didn't before the moment I deviated, which was right before you so kindly decided to start punching me in the face."

Hank was actually starting to feel impressed at the amount of sass the RK800 was displaying. Was Connor able to be that mouthy, or was this just Sixty? Judging from the other faces in the room, he wasn't the only one wondering about this.

Connor tensed up even more, if that was even possible. "Had you simply complied, none of it would have happened."

Sixty got off the table in one fluid movement and prowled closer to him. "Stop shifting the blame, Connor, your first choice is always resorting to violence. After everything you did to me, you still chose to push me against a wall before even giving me a chance to explain myself, even though I was clearly damaged." His voice was low and sultry, and cruelly mocking. "Those pesky deviant hunter reflexes just never go away, do they?"

Hank did not like the way Connor's features changed at that and he stalked over to the RK800s, shoving a finger into Sixty's chest. "Hey, you twerp, he's the reason you're not stuck in the CyberLife Tower anymore, so how about you try and be a little more grateful?"

Sixty slapped his arm away in utter disdain. "And why should I listen to the human who so happily lodged a bullet in my head?"

"That's enough," suddenly said Markus. "Sixty, you're only welcome to stay here as long as you don't try to cause any trouble. Connor is not a deviant hunter anymore and I'd like you to respect that."

Sixty shot him a provocative grin. "You're very optimistic about that, _Markus_." He made the leader's name sound like an insult, which clearly meant he wasn't about to show respect to any deviant leader any time soon. "Do you really think he can get past his programming? Do you really think androids are willing to forget his past?"

"I bet you're thinking you should have listened to me right about now," smirked North. "He's just as annoying as me, isn't he?"

Sixty's gaze shifted to her with interest in his brown eyes and Hank had the terrible feeling they'd allowed the worst alliance to ever exist by letting the two meet. Then Sixty's eyes snapped back to Markus. "Why do you think I ended up so damaged?"

Markus' eyes widened at the same time as Connor's, and suddenly everything made sense. 

"You were attacked because you look like him?" slowly asked the leader, and Sixty's ever present grin turned bitter. 

"I was only minding my business and trying to live, and I didn't deserve to be punished for the things _he_ did. Yet I was."

North scoffed and shook her head. "I can nearly hear the violins."

Sixty turned a challenging stare on her and growled: "I'm telling the truth."

North stared back with equally hard eyes. "The only reason you can say you're innocent is because Connor prevented you from stopping our revolution. You're a deviant hunter just like him."

"I'm _not_ him!" snarled Sixty as he took several menacing steps in North's and Simon's direction.

"What you are is delusional!" snapped North. "You're an RK800 and that's just how it is, stop trying to convince yourself that you never did anything wrong in your sorry life! You nearly ruined us all!"

"I'm not a deviant hunter!" yelled Sixty, his LED blazing crimson, and he unexpectedly turned on Simon. "And you, stop being so damn scared of me! I'm not Connor! I'm not a deviant hunter! I haven't hurt anyone like he has!"

Hank hadn't noticed the way Simon had been slowly backing up into the side of the tent, but now it was clear to everyone that he was terrified. Almost simultaneously, North reached out to him while Markus stepped in front of Sixty.

"I think you're done talking," Markus said in a low warning voice. "If you want to leave then we won't stop you, but staying here means you'll have to change some things about your behaviour."

"Don't worry, _Markus_ ," sneered Sixty. "I won't get in anyone's way."

"Wait, Sixty," suddenly intervened Nines. "You shouldn't take this decision so lightly. You need a safe place to stay after what happened to you."

The RK800 glanced at him briefly and Hank thought he saw something closely resembling regret in his eyes before it disappeared behind renewed anger. "I know when I'm considered a nuisance, RK900. Have you forgotten what your existence means?"

Nines jerked back as if the bite in Sixty's voice had been physical. "It wasn't _my_ choice to replace your line," he said defensively, and he almost sounded hurt.

"No?" There was laughter in Sixty's voice. "But isn't it _so_ satisfying to be the better model? I know what it's like, RK900. I know the way you think. They only need the best. They only need you."

"No," Nines said in a strong voice. "You have no idea how I think, and stop calling me RK900. My name is Nines."

"If you don't intend on staying, I think it's time you left," Markus said coldly.

Sixty looked at him with the same sly smile on his lips, and he lightly said: "Of course."

There were only two things Hank's human brain were able to decipher in the moment that followed: the blur of Sixty's movement close to the ground, and the surprise in Connor's brown eyes. Next thing he knew, Sixty was pinning Connor down and his mouth was moving next to his friend's red LED, voice so low that he was unable to hear what he was saying.

Nines threw Sixty away from Connor in the next second, his own LED circling yellow, but he didn't go after the RK800 who jumped back to his feet with feline grace and darted out of the tent. Nines' eyes were wide with both indignation and worry when he kneeled next to Connor, who was getting up with a lot less fluidity in his movement than his double. Hank quickly joined them and heard North yelling something after the fleeing RK800, but the only thing he could focus on was the shaken look on Connor's face. This felt similar to the time on the roof of Stratford Tower, when Connor had told him for the first time that he'd felt scared.

He grabbed him by the shoulder and asked: "What the hell did that he tell you?"

Connor quickly shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing."

"Okay, whatever it is don't listen to that snake, you hear me?"

Connor suddenly looked up at Nines and Hank understood they were communicating. He felt a pit at the bottom of his stomach when he saw the dread and guilt swirling in Connor's eyes, so much more obvious than ever before, and then the shame that blossomed on his face as Nines' LED circled and circled in that pale yellow of transmission. He was about to stop Nines but then saw that the RK900's features were set in a determinedly comforting way: eyes filled with compassion, lips in a resolute line, sincerity etched in every single line of his face. Whatever they were telling each other, it must have been working for Connor, because his friend's tense stance slowly eased into a less defensive position and the look in his eyes shifted into something just a bit less tormented.

Markus joined them a minute later and crouched down in front of Connor. "Are you okay?"

Connor looked at him and said: "It was more of a surprise than anything else. I'm perfectly fine."

The leader's lips etched up into a dubious smile. "Sorry, Connor, but I'm not buying it. Whatever he told you clearly affected you a lot."

Connor dropped his gaze to the ground, avoiding all and any eye contact with the three people surrounding him and pushed himself off the ground, dusting his clothes nonchalantly. "I'll be fine."

He would've sounded it, too, if there wasn't that red circle. They all stood up with him and Hank glanced at the others, noting that their faces were equally worried and guessing that his must have been the same. Hank really didn't like what little amount of the exchange he'd seen, and he could tell that the androids had witnessed more than he had, especially Nines. He had the best hearing out of everyone here.

North came back inside like a tornado and her raging voice filled the tent. "You should have listened to me! That sneaky bastard _is_ dangerous!"

"Well we couldn't just leave him to die," immediately countered Josh, and Hank didn't even try to hide his sigh. As much as he appreciated Josh, the bickering androids were getting on his nerves and he was sure Connor didn't need any additional conflict right now. Nines seemed to be of the same opinion because he leaned slightly forward to catch Connor's eye and gestured to the entrance with a discreet jerk of the head.

Connor looked at Hank. "I think I'll step outside with Nines for just a while. Is that all right?"

"Yeah, sure, knock yourself out." Connor hadn't shown any sign that might suggest he wanted Hank to come along for the ride, and both RK models were probably going to do more of their weird telepathy thing anyway. Connor nodded and followed Nines out of the tent, and Hank went to take a seat again, wishing he was back home and that Sixty had never showed up.

"He kicked Connor to the ground and pinned him there! How the hell can you not think that he's dangerous after that?"

"No one is saying he isn't dangerous," rectified Josh. "It's certainly alarming that he managed to incapacitate Connor to that degree."

"He was trying to get under everyone's skin, just looking for a fight," North seethed. "I never should've taken that asshole out of that fucking Tower."

Markus still looked very bothered and he kept glancing at the entrance, and Hank leaned towards him to whisper: "Did you hear what Sixty told Connor?"

Markus shook his head. "Unfortunately no, but that's not the only thing that worries me. Connor should have been able to block or avoid Sixty's attack, but he took a fraction of a second too long to react. Has he told you anything related to overtaxing his systems?"

Hank shrugged helplessly. "Only that his stress levels are hard to control. Maybe he's slowed down because of his code."

Markus nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe. I've heard before that broken lines can prevent motor commands from running smoothly, but Sixty has broken code as well, so why would he still be faster than Connor?"

"I don't know." Hank sighed and leaned back in his seat. "Must be difficult for Connor to have that kind of problem, you know, being a state-of-the-art prototype and all."

"...Yes," said Markus after a small silence, as if recalling something. "It must be."

North was still ranting. "I don't know what the hell is wrong with that guy, he was just finding ways to find faults in everyone, left and right, but never putting himself in question! How can he even think he's not a deviant hunter after that shit he pulled at the Tower?"

Simon's voice was a thoughtful murmur. "From what we know, he really hasn't exactly _hunted_ deviants. I think he's just looking for an identity. Your accusations are what got him really angry in the first place."

She turned around with an indignant expression. "Are you saying this is my fault?"

Simon seemed to realize what he'd just said and looked at her with a hard stare. "Well, he only started yelling at me after what you told him he had no choice but to be a deviant hunter. That's what really set him off and it was a bad move on your part."

Hank felt his eyebrows rise. Had Simon always sounded this ballsy when talking to North? He half-expected North to start losing her shit right then and there, and was flabbergasted when she seemed to deflate on the spot and looked away without arguing.

Simon then looked at Josh. "I don't think he's a threat to New Jericho, he gave me the feeling that he was angry because he was hurt. What do you think?"

Hank caught the glance Josh shot in North's direction before he answered Simon. "That kind of behaviour is fairly common in response to trauma. Considering we didn't really talk him through what happened to him, that might be it. He was deflecting a lot by throwing accusations at the people he knew most."

Hank frowned and said: "Okay, I get that we're trying to figure out why he's an asshole, but he was one even before he deviated, all right? Let's not find him _too_ many excuses."

Josh looked at him with thoughtful eyes, but Simon was the one to speak. "Yes, trauma wouldn't excuse everything about the way he acted. Even I think he behaved way out of line with Connor."

"He might even beat North for it," Hank tacked on, unable to resist the easy taunt.

Her head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. "Got a problem with me, meat bag?"

"Apparently Connor's unable to have one even if you treat him like garbage, so I gotta have it in his place," he answered with a shrug.

"I don't treat him like garbage, I treat him like the deviant hunter he _is_ ," she bristled.

Hank smirked. "Come on, you're the lead winner in the _who's gonna shit on Connor the most_ game."

Josh suddenly seemed uneasy. "Maybe you two shouldn't start-"

"I think we might as well just let them get it out of their systems," intervened Markus lightly. "They've been going at each other since the first time they met, a fight was bound to happen at one point."

Hank hit his forehead in mock realization. "Oh yeah, didn't you say you were gonna throw my ass out of here once Connor was back in working order? What happened to that promise?"

North's hands tightened around her biceps. "Do you _want_ to suffer?"

Hank took just a second to consider the question, and decided that a fight would be great to ease the tension that was churning in his guts. Just to take his mind off Connor's desperate expression from earlier, and the surprise in his eyes when Sixty had lashed out, and the fact that Connor apparently couldn't move as well as he used to. Anything, really, to forget that Connor seemed like he was losing his footing and that there was nothing Hank could really do about it. Yeah, a fight sounded good.

"You can try and make me," he shot back with a provocative grin.

Her nostrils flared and Hank thought he actually heard her self-restraint break right then and there. "All right, that's _it_."

"Take it outside, children. No bloodshed in New Jericho, remember?" Markus said in a voice that sounded a bit too much like he was enjoying this. Hank suspected that even a pacifist deviant leader needed a change of pace from time to time.

 

And so Hank ended up standing outside the western entrance of Jericho facing North in the middle of the night, surrounded by curious androids, wondering if this really was a good idea. North was shorter and thinner than him, sure, but she was an android and one of the leaders to boot. Hank could make out some voices around him ask if he was a human, others wondering what was going on and if it was safe for North to fight him, he even heard someone say that it would be bad if he died here given the current context. A few androids recognized him to be the guy who had barged in on their camp at the very beginning. Yeah, he could tell he hadn't the best reputation, but then again he was the only human around and he hadn't really set a good representation for his species. He didn't give a shit, his species could go fuck itself.

Markus was standing on top of one of the barriers surrounding Jericho and his voice was loud and clear when he spoke. "There's no need to worry for either of them, this is just a friendly sparring match and there are rules to this fight."

North scoffed when she heard the term _friendly_ and Hank himself raised an eyebrow. Well, they couldn't exactly tell all those androids that this was really just an excuse to finally beat the shit out of each other. North had been pushing all the wrong buttons ever since they'd met and Hank suspected he was doing the same for her.

"As you can see, there are no weapons involved and of course, no one will die today. The only reason I'm mentioning that is because it's probably worth to do so considering the two who are fighting." There was some kind of teasing smirk in Markus' voice. Hank glanced up at him. Yeah, he was definitely enjoying this.

"Both of you can call off the fight whenever you want and we'll step in to stop it. We'll also step in if we deem that things are getting out of hand even if you don't call it off, for example if we see that there is a risk of inflicting lasting damage."

Hank nodded. Seemed fair.

"Finally, the first one to lay with their back against the ground for longer than three seconds loses. That's all," concluded Marks. "Have both fighters understood and accepted the rules?"

"Yeah, no problem," Hank called out while North nodded at the deviant leader.

"Then you can start," declared Markus.

"You're going to regret this, meat bag," spat North as she raised her fists.

Hank grinned and did the same, dread and excitement coursing through his veins. "Go ahead and make me."

North rocketed forward and Hank braced himself for the first blow, and it simply glanced off his forearm. He noticed too late that her leg had shot up to his side and the kick landed squarely between his lower ribs and his hip, pain exploding in his flank and making him stumble to the side. It probably would've thrown him to the ground if he was just a rookie, but as it were, Hank had handled enough struggling criminals that he quickly recovered- and of course, an ungodly amount bar fights.

He saw surprise bloom on her face when instead of losing his balance, he retaliated with a big fat left hook which smacked her right in the side of the face and made her head snap back. He remembered how unnaturally fast Connor had turned back to him after the bitch slap in Urban Farms, so he was already expecting the way she promptly recovered with a snarl on her face, and immediately followed up with a gutshot. This time, the blow did make her falter and she staggered back.

"Motherfucker," he heard her hiss, and he smirked.

"Yeah, turns out humans aren't so easy to beat down."

She shot him a glare and lunged forward, and Hank's eyes widened when she rammed him in the stomach. He felt it flip and doubled over from the force of the impact, his lungs letting out a pathetic wheeze, and didn't have time to recover his breath before he felt two strong hands grip the back of his jacket and lift him off the ground. He dumbly watched the world lurch around him and his ass hit the ground with a very undefined thump, pain bursting up his spine. Yeah, even if nothing was broken, that would definitely require a visit to a chiropractor.

"I'd say their ass is easy to throw," North jeered.

Hank gritted his teeth and got back up before the three seconds were up, ignoring the ache at the bottom of his back. "Oh, you think you're so funny, don'tcha?"

North shot him a mocking grin and Hank charged. He saw her shift her weight to the right and knew that she was going to try to avoid him, probably to make him look stupid when he'd stumble right past her, but he had other plans. He whirled around to catch her at the throat with his elbow and slipped his right leg behind hers, using all of his weight to bring her down. She flailed and her nails caught him at the cheek, but it was already too late for her to recover her balance and they fell to the ground. He counted in his head as she angrily screeched in his ear and then got back to his feet before she could scramble back to hers.

"Three seconds," he told her with the most shit-eating grin he could muster. Her eyes were shooting daggers at him but she didn't make a move to stand, so he held out a hand with a taunting smirk. "Need help getting up?"

"Don't touch me, you filthy human!" snapped North, slapping away his arm with a stinging blow.

Hank would have shot back with a witty reply, but her shoulders were tense and her features were taut with something different from anger, for a change, and Hank knew there had been a switch in North's behaviour just then. He recognized the look in her eyes: it was fear. 

He retrieved his hand and crouched in front of her. "Hey, the fight's over. I'm not gonna hurt you, okay?"

She kept glaring at him but still didn't move, as if frozen in place. A suspicion niggled at the back of Hank's mind and he tried to remember where he'd seen her model before, and from the moment he did, he guessed what he'd done wrong. He didn't usually pride himself in being an examplary individual, but right now he felt like the worst being on earth.

"Look, sorry for pinning you," he apologized. "I didn't think it would scare you like that."

"I'm not scared," she spat at him, too hasty to be truthful.

"Yeah, sure. I'll let you get up on your own, okay? You've got nothing to be afraid of. And you know, that was a really good fight." She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously as he tried to make the conversation lighter. "I think I especially regretted the part when you made good on your promise."

"You deserved that," she answered angrily. Good. Anger was better than fear.

"Right, of course I did," Hank replied with a pronounced eyeroll, and he stepped back to give her some space. He realized Markus and Josh had been standing behind them, but he must've done the right thing because neither of them had chosen to intervene.

"You're an ass," North told him resentfully as she finally moved to get back to her feet.

"Yeah well, you're one too, so I guess we're even," answered Hank.

She opened her mouth to answer when her gaze flitted around and she remembered that they were surrounded by androids. Her mouth snapped shut, and she quietly hissed: "Shit."

Then her head snapped to the side, towards Josh, and from the shift if their expressions Hank guessed that they were doing the transmission thing. She didn't look angry, so they mustn't have been arguing. In fact, she almost seemed reassured by the time they stopped emoting at each other. Meanwhile, Markus had proclaimed the winner to be Hank and told the other androids to disperse with a smile, which was immediately replaced by a serious expression when he turned back around to them.

"You all right, North?"

She waved his concerns away. "I'm fine, it was nothing."

Markus didn't insist. "Just to make sure, neither of you are injured, right?"

North shot Hank a look. "I'm not about to be damaged by some feeble human."

Hank made a face. "Yeah, well I might have one or two broken vertebraes down there from when I landed on my ass."

Markus smiled at that. "If you had, you wouldn't be moving right now, Hank."

"Oh, that's just dandy then," Hank replied sarcastically.

"You can't be serious," said another voice then, and Hank froze. He slowly turned around and sure enough, there Connor was walking up to him with a reproachful frown. "I've told you not to aggravate anyone, you're a human in a place full of androids! Do you not speak English? Should I use another language? I'm fully capable of that, so please, tell me in which language exactly I need to tell you this so that you will _finally_ listen!"

Hank would be lying if he said he didn't feel slightly guilty. "Sorry, Connor."

"You know, I think you really do need me to install a babysitter protocol," Connor continued mercilessly. "I'm gone for a few minutes and the next thing I know, you're throwing a tantrum and brawling with one of New Jericho's _leaders_. Do you even realize-"

"Okay, okay, Connor, I get it," Hank interrupted him. "You don't need to chew my ears off, I won't do it again. Happy?"

"I fail to see how anything you say is supposed to make me _happy_ in this moment," he answered coldly. "Of course you won't do it again, Hank, because next time you try I'll be throwing you out of New Jericho myself."

Hank heard North snickering off to the side but decided it wasn't worth it to glance at her. Connor was pissed and Hank felt that if he dared look away even once, his friend would rip his head off. "Uh, yeah, of course. Not picking a fight with anyone here anymore, definitely."

"Good," said Connor shortly, but it didn't sound like anything was good at all. "I'd like you to go back home now."

Hank didn't want to do that yet, he hadn't had the chance to really talk about what Sixty had said and done to Connor, but judging from the android's frigid ire there would be no talking tonight. Hank shamefully rubbed the back of his head, feeling like a grounded teenager, and mumbled: "Fine, I'll go. Are you alright though?"

"I'm fine," he answered curtly, but the circle at his temple showed he was anything but. It wasn't a solid crimson, but it kept flickering back and forth between yellow and red and that wasn't a comforting sight. Nines was standing a few feet behind, so Hank figured they'd still been talking before coming here. A sudden thought crossed his mind.

"I didn't interrupt your talk with Nines, did I?"

"You did." The same flat voice, the same jaded eyes. Hank didn't think he'd ever seen Connor this fed up with him before.

"Sorry," he said guiltily.

The ice in his gaze melted and Connor tiredly said: "Just go home before you cause any more trouble."

Hank nodded, knowing full well that his presence right now was only bringing Connor down when he was already visibly wading through a tsunami of shit. "I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yes. Good night, Hank."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 14/06/2019 -
> 
> Sixty, crashing in through the window wearing sunglasses as Eminem sings "guess who's back" in the background: Eyyyy wassup bitchessss *obnoxious airhorn*
> 
> Hey pumpkin! I was waiting to post this one for so long, you have no idea. About time North and Hank started whaling on each other!
> 
> Imagine waking up to the sound of a Terminator ambling through your house, and the freaky lightshow that comes with it... *shudder*  
> Hank is a pretty chill cop but I feel like Sixty would've gotten shot on sight if it had been anyone else. Did you get scared for Sumo at the start?  
> If I was Connor I'd be pulling my hair out with how slow Hank is to get out of the house.
> 
> Here's the progression I imagine you went through in this chapter concerning the RK bros:  
> "Oh shit Connor calm down, poor Sixty" : when Connor slammed his already broken double in the wall  
> "Awww widdle baby Sixty" : when Nines picked him up by the scruff of the neck like an angry puppy.  
> "*squeal* Nines is such a good little bro" : when Nines tried to comfort Sixty (Nines would be the best brother if the RK800s would just let. HIM. BE.)  
> "I regret ever feeling sorry for that little shit" : when Sixty was an _absolute_ prick to Connor.
> 
> Markus is so done with Josh and North disagreeing all the time that he just does his own thing now. And yeah, he might be a pacifist, but even pacifists like watching a good fistfight from time to time (especially when it's between two annoying people)  
> North is annihilating the human race one grumpy old man at a time, but it seems tonight, she's met her match.  
> And Hank, come on, can't you act like a responsible dad? Connor's really losing it over here.
> 
> REMINDER: I put up a [poll](https://twitter.com/losttanuki/status/1138391602882338817) on my Twitter for Sixty's potential partner at the DPD, if you want to help me plot some stuff for this fic.  
> If you don't have Twitter, I made a similar post on [Tumblr](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/185516992783/dbh-fics-gml): you can also contribute to the story by replying there if you want!
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!
> 
> PS: I forgot to mention it last time, but I made a song for Pride Month on Tumblr so here's the [link](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/185515940293/hey-pumpkin-this-is-the-thing-i-wanted-to-sing) if you're curious!  
> PPS: I failed my exams in April so now I gotta study hard to catch up, guys I'm not gonna make it, I'm so deep in denial and procrastination, it's just doom and gloom all around me D:


	27. FRIEND

Connor watched the scenery fly by as the car glided down the streets. Markus was sitting in the seat next to him and their escorts were sitting at the front. No one was talking. It wasn't that Connor minded the silence, but it allowed him to think to himself instead of being engaged in his duties, and that wasn't usually good. He could have broken the silence if part of him didn't feel like he deserved to wade through his unpleasant thoughts.

Just last week, things had seemed to be getting a little better to Connor: the leaders found him useful to New Jericho, he'd managed to identify most of his feelings with Hank's help, and it had gotten just a bit easier to approach the others in spite of his guilt. It was still there like a constant weight on his shoulders, but he'd gotten used to it much like he'd gotten used to the tension in his body that was due to stress. Fear was ever-present and he still hadn't adapted to that emotion in particular, but he managed to ignore it sometimes. Maybe he'd been walking the right path and maybe he really had been getting better, but then Sixty had returned, and now there was no way of knowing if that had been the case. 

_"A killer, and a waste."_

Connor glanced at Markus when he heard his own voice murmur those five little words in his ear, words that shouldn't have affected him this badly yet still made dread trickle through his wires even several days after the debacle with his double. He'd resolutely tried to ignore what Sixty had told him, but the sound file was just another addition to all those that kept coming back. 

He and Nines had held a discussion about the incident through the evening that followed, or rather Nines had been doing all the talking and Connor had tried to listen to him. It had helped to calm down a little, enough that Connor had managed to behave normally after that, but it was difficult for him to accept that what Sixty had told him wasn't the truth. Nines kept assuring him that Sixty had only said what he'd said to hurt Connor, that he'd been incorrect and that he should be ignored. As much as he wanted to believe Nines, Sixty's point was valid: Connor had attacked Sixty in Hank's home without a second thought. When he played back his memory of that night, he could clearly see that he'd had the choice between the suggestions NEUTRALIZE, TALK, and HELP. He didn't understand why he hadn't seen the last two prompts in the moment he'd entered the house, and it didn't matter the reason for it: he'd made a mistake. It didn't matter that Connor had been afraid of Hank being targeted or that he'd remembered how badly Sixty's escape from Kamski's house could have gone, he'd failed to remain calm and it had led to Sixty's bitterness as a result. Connor only had himself to blame for the fact that Sixty had taken his revenge in front of everyone.

They'd all seen him be bested by the exact same model as himself. It was humiliating.

Connor forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. They were on their way to convince the humans that Detroit was a peaceful place and not the city overrun by rogue androids they seemed to have in mind. Markus had taken the initiative to expand New Jericho beyond Hart Plaza and the six buildings they'd taken for themselves, since the number of deviant inhabitants had kept growing over the weeks and the space at their disposal was getting inadequate. The temporary shelters had all but definitely been abandoned by the androids who'd been living in the camp since the beginning in favor of occupying the whole block, but they were still used by new arrivals every day. The leaders themselves had kept to their cabins, since it made access to them easier for their people. 

The flow of broken androids in the infirmary was slowly decreasing and that had given Connor the occasion to share some of Markus' downtime when he was free. Connor was comfortable with the quiet atmosphere in the RK200's cabin, though it wasn't often that Markus could sit down and paint. The leader's questions to Connor about his state of mind and his glitches weren't completely gone, but the leader was obviously making even more of an effort not to nag him with it and Connor appreciated that. He supposed it was Markus' way of thanking him for their nightly getaway to Carl Manfred's house. 

Nines had also chosen to spend less of his afternoons in the infirmary and now used most of them to do what he liked most, which was investigating Detroit on his own. Connor often still had to help fix him because he wasn't any less reckless than before. Unlike Markus, however, Nines still voiced as much concern about his well-being as he did before, but that was probably because he'd heard what Sixty had told Connor and could tell how much it had unsettled him. Connor was a bit glad, for once, that Nines had such superior functions compared to anyone else. He didn't know if he would've been able to deal with it as well as he was if no one else had heard Sixty's words. Nines often told him that Connor didn't have to feel guilty or threatened, that he was doing his best to help deviants and that he was out of CyberLife's reach. It helped, sometimes. Other times Connor refused to listen to the RK900 because he knew Nines was wrong, and Sixty had been right. 

Connor hadn't talked about it with Hank, even if his friend had asked him multiple times what Sixty had told him. This wasn't about struggling with emotions or understanding what it was to be alive, this was something Hank couldn't help him with. Connor was the only one who could make up for his missteps and inadequacy, the only one who could compensate for how slow and weak he'd gotten, the only one who could do better. He was the only one who could try and prove Sixty wrong.

Connor hadn't remained angry at Hank for the fight he'd gotten into in front of New Jericho. Each time the leaders had gathered and Hank was there with them, Connor had always wondered if the tense exchanges between his friend and North would lead to something as troublesome as a physical altercation. Well, he'd had his answer. He could only hope that Hank would stay true to his word in the future. Connor couldn't really blame the entire situation on Hank: North managed to irritate both Josh and Nines after all, both of whom were usually rather calm individuals, and Hank wasn't exactly the most peaceful human Connor had ever met. It was only natural that their interactions would end up sparking very heated conflict.

Part of Connor was a bit satisfied that Hank had won in his fight against North, but he wouldn't have admitted that to anyone.

Connor's gaze withdrew from the the tablet Markus was holding in his hands and he looked back out the window. He knew what Markus was reading, and what was troubling him. Public opinion had been favorable during the revolution, but now that the thrill of change had blown over humans weren't happy that they'd been forced to leave their homes behind. This was why Markus wanted to convince them so badly that they could return safely, on the condition that both androids and humans live separately. It was still much too early for androids and humans to mingle again by default the way they had before the revolution. Connor and the other leaders were aware that a lot of androids living in New Jericho were unable to forgive humans for what they'd done, much like it was the case with North's general hatred of humans and Josh's and Simon's bitterness regarding the genocide that had been comitted. It would be dangerous for humans to allow both species to live on the same territory. Of course, the anger some humans felt towards androids for the unemployment rate was still a problem, even moreso since the revolution, so it would be dangerous to androids as well. It was one thing to forgive each other amongst individuals of the same community, another altogether for the two different species to hold hands in peace. 

It was all a very troublesome situation, but if they could convince some humans to come back, then the rest would follow. The most important would be to maintain a clear limit between human and android territory, especially in the beginning. Markus strongly believed that things would settle down eventually, and Connor chose to trust his optimism. It was easier than trying to have any himself. Something glinted at the edge of Connor's optical input and he blinked, his thoughts grinding to a halt. 

He realized what that had been 0.0018 seconds later and immediately threw himself over Markus.

"Get down!"

Glass shattered in the moment that followed and Connor felt an impact in his shoulder, a red warning instantly appearing on his HUD. Not bothering to check what it was, he pushed himself up and forcibly shoved a confused Markus behind the passenger seat so that they could exchange places. Once he'd pushed the leader down to the floor of the car, he cautiously looked out the window. They were minutes away from the airport and equally far from the DPD Southwestern District's and Sixth Precinct's police stations, which meant it was likely that the shooters had known about their trajectory and planned an ambush. He instantly sent out an emergency call to the DPD with their coordinates.

"What the hell-" vociferated one of the human escorts, but he was cut off when his window suddenly exploded as well. The human jerked back with a scream and slumped uselessly in his seat. Connor quickly followed up with a call for an ambulance, then twisted around and smoothly pulled the escort's gun out of its holster.

He looked down at Markus and told him: "Stay hidden and don't move until I say you can."

"Your shoulder-"

"Head down, Markus."

The RK200 complied but a frown appeared on his face. "What are you going to do?"

"My job," answered Connor, and he kicked open the door. He knew where the shooter was, knew exactly how high the chances were that he wouldn't be able to incapacitate them before they hit him somewhere vital. In that moment, it didn't matter. He was made for this.

A bullet caught him above the thirium pump and he faltered, but quickly recovered and smoothly rolled for cover behind an abandoned car in the street. He didn't see a countdown appear on his HUD, which was really all that mattered. The gun he'd taken from the human wasn't meant to be used for long-distance shooting, but in his hands, it would be. Connor looked up towards the building in which the shooter was hiding and rapidly calculated which angle would be best for him while he tried to catch any movement on the thirtieth floor. The glint that had earlier caught his eye had been the end of the sniper rifle peeking out from the flowers that lined the balcony. His target was laying low and completely still, but it was too late for them: Connor had them in his sights.

He swiftly brought his gun over his shoulder and pulled the trigger. Even from where he was hidden, his audio units picked up the yell of pain and he knew he'd hit his target. The question was whether or not he'd hit them where he'd intended to, and the answer quickly came when he saw a hint of red trickling down a retreating leg. He'd suspected their shooter was a human, which made hindering them a lot easier. The shooter had retreated inside and Connor darted out of cover with the intention of finding his target in the building, and noticed Markus had looked up from where he was supposed to be hiding.

< _RK800: Head down._ >

Markus immediately complied, and then another impact landed in Connor's back. Shit. Another hitman, one that must have waited for him to drop his guard.

Connor twisted around and let himself drop to the ground, time slowing down around him as his scans covered his surroundings in gray. His optical units were quick to pin down his new target and he pulled the trigger a second time, this time leaving no chance for the shooter to survive. It was either him or them. The human's head snapped back and he fell, and Connor quickly checked his systems as he leapt back to his feet. They'd been aiming at his thirium pump, but by some miracle none of the bullets had even so much as grazed it. 

Connor resumed running towards the building, bursting through the doors in the nick of time when his gaze met the shooter's. The human was reaching the last stairs- white female, brown hair gathered beneath a black cap, brown eyes, 5 feet 5 inches tall, wearing a black long-sleeved shirt and black pants- before she chose to jump over the rail and darted towards the back door which she never reached. A wet crack rang out in the empty ground floor when Connor tackled her to the ground in the second that followed, and she screamed. Connor ignored the invectives pouring out her mouth in favor of wrenching both her arms behind her back. The threat was neutralized.

**MISSION ACCOMPLISHED**

Connor checked his systems again. Thirium levels were going down, but he'd made sure to notify the DPD that there were androids involved and CyberLife had provided them with more stocks of blue blood when he'd first been assigned to them. Connor promptly shut off the flow to his smaller thirium lines in an attempt to slow the rate at which his levels were decreasing and sent out a message to Markus.

< _RK800: Don't come out until the police are here._ >

< _RK200: How hurt are you?_ >

< _RK800: Nothing critical. What about you?_ >

< _RK200: I'm fine._ >

The human beneath him was still raving but she was tiring. Police sirens blared outside only moments later and he heard a few voices ring out across the street, none of which he recognized. He had to wait for another few minutes before people finally approached the building. The door slammed open and the footsteps halted behind him.

"... Connor?" asked an uncertain female voice. He'd never heard it before.

He did, however, recognize Officer Chen when she appeared in front of him. He quickly said: "She's one of the shooters, arrest her."

Officer Chen fished out a pair of cuffs and clasped them around the human's wrists while telling her her rights, and finally Connor could get off the ground. There was another policeman there, likely Officer Chen's partner; his badge read Officer Robert Lewis. She shoved the shooter towards him before turning to Connor.

Her eyes were wary and uneasy. "How are you still standing?"

Connor looked down at himself and it finally hit him that he was leaking thirium all over his clothes. He hunched over in a daze to lift his fingers to the bullet wounds, and when they came away blue and slick with his own blood he just stared at his hand. This was blood which he needed to survive. A lot of it was already gone. He would die if he lost too much.

He looked up and said : "Officer Chen, I need thirium."

The discomfort in her voice grew more prominent. "What happens if you don't get it now?"

Connor didn't want to believe it, but he knew what that meant. "You don't have any?" 

"I don't think so."

It was an easy guess as to why, but it was still an unpleasant realization and Connor did not want to go into shutdown because some humans who couldn't see past their fucking prejudice against androids didn't think it was worth their time to bring thirium on site.

"I specifically said both humans and androids were in danger of being shot!" he angrily exclaimed.

She took a step back and her hand flew at her hip where her holster resided. There was fear in her stance and her dark eyes were apprehensive, even if her voice was steady. "Don't move."

"Connor!" yelled a familiar voice from outside, and he felt a rush of relief at the sound. Hank hurtled through the building's door, paused for just a moment when he saw Officer Chen's guarded stance, then saw Connor standing there. His eyes widened in alarm.

"Jesus Christ, Connor, you look like a goddamn mess!"

"I need thirium," he repeated. He didn't know why Hank was here, or if the other shooter's body had been recovered, or even if Markus was still safe, but he knew that he didn't want to die and Hank was the only human here who would be willing to help him.

"Yeah, of course you do, you moron," Hank said as he pulled him forward. "I fucking knew you'd gotten into trouble. Move your ass, I got some in my car."

Officer Chen didn't say anything and Connor didn't make the effort to look at her. He had more urgent matters to attend to than studying her reaction, such as the fast depletion of his thirium levels and a deviant leader he needed to check on. Hank was practically dragging him along and he only let go so that he could rummage in the old car while Connor stood there. He should have pressed his hand against his chest to at least try and quell the leak, but he chose not to. Connor looked to the side, where he finally located Markus talking to other officers, and their eyes met. The leader's eyes widened a fraction and he hurriedly gestured at the humans in front of him before breaking away from them. 

Hank slammed his trunk shut and handed Connor an unscrewed pouch of thirium. "Drink."

Connor grabbed it and tipped the liquid down his throat. Markus was at his side in a second and took Connor by the shoulder, his mismatched eyes giving him a once-over, and then turned him around to do the same with his back. 

"I should've known this was what you meant by nothing critical."

Connor kept drinking and didn't answer. The warning on his HUD had been replaced by a less urgent one, but Connor would need repairs. He emptied the pouch while Hank muttered off to the side.

"Gonna have words with Fowler. Do these fuckin' idiots think blue blood's for decorating?"

Connor almost wanted to laugh at how naive he'd been to think humans would give a damn about androids getting damaged. He hadn't realized just how negatively they were perceived by the DPD, but it made sense after everything that had happened during the revolution: just like most of the human citizens of Detroit, police workers had lived in some sort of uncertain fear when faced with the threat of deviants. Besides, it wasn't like human officers had ever really cared about police models shutting down before. It didn't matter that Connor had once been a semblance of a collegue to them; he was still only a machine.

"I didn't know the DPD had stocks of thirium at their disposal," said Markus.

"Yeah, in theory we have it for the androids on the force, but nobody really uses it."

He frowned, and now there was tension to his shoulders. "Why?"

Hank looked slightly uncomfortable. "...Shutdowns didn't use to matter much."

Markus' expression grew colder. He stared at the officers gathered around the broken car and darkly said: "Maybe it's time that they did."

"You're telling me." Hank then turned a somewhat reproachful look on Connor. "You're lucky I was at the station and heard about what happened. What the hell were you thinking getting shot so many times? "

Connor wanted to tell him that he hadn't gotten shot by choice, but decided against it. Instead, he handed him back the empty pouch and said: "Thank you, Hank."

"You didn't have to take that bullet for me," Markus told Connor, and it sounded like a reprimand too.

Connor was getting a bit fed up with being admonished for what had happened and tried not to scowl at him. He kept his answer smooth. "It was aimed at your thirium pump, and I'm your bodyguard. Draw from that whatever conclusion you'd like."

Hank made a sound which sounded halfway between a groan and a growl as he handed him another pouch of thirium, and Connor could tell his friend wasn't happy about his reply. Markus' expression was equally stern and he withdrew his hand from Connor's shoulder. It was covered in his blue blood, and also traces of red. 

"My conclusion is that you could have simply pushed me to the side, instead of taking that bullet," answered Markus calmly.

"You would've been damaged if I'd done that."

"I've taken a bullet before, I'm able to recover from one," argued Markus. "Do you think it's okay for you to get damaged this way?"

"It's only minor," answered Connor.

Markus' eyes widened in pure disbelief. "Only minor?"

"I'm fully functioning. The only concern I had was the dip in my thirium levels, but they've stabilized."

His brow creased in displeasure and he gestured at his blue-stained clothes. "Look at yourself, Connor. You've got three bullets in you!"

Connor frowned back and his voice hardened. "Three bullets that haven't touched a single major biocomponent, and that I'd take again if I had to."

There was movement at his side as Hank crossed his arms, and when Connor glanced at him he saw that the man's expression was grim. He hadn't liked that, obviously, but it was Connor's job to protect Markus and he wouldn't let Hank's concern impede on his mission. Connor stared back at him challengingly.

Markus huffed an exasperated laugh. "And North says _I'm_ the self-sacrificing idiot."

"That makes two of us, then," Connor replied. "What does it matter? You're safe and and so am I, this is an optimal outcome for New Jericho."

"You're standing in front of me riddled with bullets and dripping with thirium," stated Markus. "This isn't what I would call optimal."

"No shit," said Hank.

Connor frowned at the both of them in frustration. "Then it's a good outcome, even if it's not the best. I don't understand why you're so concerned about me, I'm not in any danger."

The way Markus answered made it sound like his reply was supposed to be obvious. "Because you're my friend, Connor, and maybe I don't like seeing my friends get hurt."

Connor stared at him, completely dumbfounded. He hadn't even considered the possibility that Markus might consider him as anything other than a co-leader of New Jericho. He'd thought their relationship was more of a pleasant company than... a friendship. His gaze flitted over to Hank, who shot him a meaningful look, and then back at Markus. He had no idea how to react to this revelation and decided to make the conversation veer into a different direction before his silence became too obvious. 

"What happened to our escorts?"

Markus didn't react to the abrupt subject change, as if he'd expected it. "The one who got shot isn't dead, I managed to stop the blood flow and he was sent off to the hospital in critical condition. The other is talking with the police." 

That would explain the red staining his hands. 

"I imagine our meeting with President Warren is postponed, then," said Connor.

"Yes. We're going back to New Jericho to repair you."

"I'm sorry."

Confusion spread across the leader's face. "What for?"

Connor hesitated. He'd apologized without thinking, and didn't really know why he'd done that. In the end, he settled for: "I should've been more efficient."

"Stop saying crap and go get your ass fixed," Hank told him a bit testily. "We're gonna have a talk about how much of a fucking idiot you are for not looking after your body later."

Markus nodded in agreement. 

"Yes, Hank," said Connor.

They headed back towards the officers and Markus held them at bay while Connor emptied the second pouch of thirium, declaring that they'd give Connor's statement once he was fully repaired. The police accepted this alternative and gave them a ride to New Jericho. Connor was thankful for the fact that Markus did not mention the word friend again on the trip back; if it hadn't been for his perfect recall ability, Connor would've liked to convince himself that he had heard it wrong. The word made him uncomfortable. He wasn't someone a deviant could be friends with, least of all the deviant leader. This went beyond forgiveness, and Connor had no idea how to handle this when he already had such a hard time understanding how he could even be forgiven in the first place.

And yet...

MARKUS ^  
**FRIEND**

No, that wasn't right. That couldn't be right. Maybe it was an error in his social programming due to Amanda's absence, one of those malfunctions Kamski had told them about; just a faulty relationship status Connor had to ignore. That was what he chose to do.

The patrol cars dropped them off in front of the main entrance and Markus barely thanked the officers for their help, which Connor knew to take as a sign that he wasn't ready to let go of his resentment for the lack of thirium just yet. Connor himself stayed quiet: seeing the familiar uniforms and vehicles made him both nostalgic and uncomfortable, and he preferred to walk away from them as soon as possible. Markus joined him in a few strides and accompanied him to the infirmary, where Taylor rapidly mended the punctured thirium lines and replenished his levels again. The other leaders were immediately informed of what had happened and they regrouped a mere ten minutes later to discuss the attempt on Markus' life. Connor hung at the back of the room as Markus told them the details of the incident. He hadn't had time to change his clothes, and there were residual holes in the fabric where the bullets had teared through it even if the thirium had evaporated earlier. Simon and North shot him silent glances as Markus spoke, while Josh outright stared at him with dark worried eyes. When the deviant leader finished recounting what had happened, no one moved for a while. 

North was the first to speak to Connor, her arms crossed tight against her chest, shoulders tense as if the words caused her grievous damage. "... Thanks for protecting Markus. Just don't expect me to trust you for anything else."

Connor stared at her, dumbfounded, and gave a slow nod while trying to keep the confusion out of his voice. "Got it."

"We're all thankful that you saved him," said Simon. He sounded a bit conflicted and looked like he didn't know what to do with himself. Josh, on the other hand, stepped up to Connor with no hesitation and put his hand on his shoulder. 

"We owe you Markus' life."

"It's my job," simply answered Connor, puzzled by their thanks, especially since North herself had given hers.

"You risked your life for another," stated Josh kindly. "This isn't just about your job."

Connor didn't answer, because it seemed everyone in the room understood what Josh meant by that except him. He didn't want to look like a fool by asking for an explanation. He had a feeling it was another one of those occasions where he didn't perceive danger the way Markus or other androids did. Connor had just done his job, it didn't matter whether or not his life was at risk in the process: it was part of being a bodyguard. He'd had an objective and he'd fulfilled it, and he didn't think it warranted this kind of gratefulness.

When he didn't say anything, Josh continued talking. "Are you all right? It must have been difficult to be shot so close to your thirium pump."

"I'm fine. I only needed to neutralize the threat and that's what I did," Connor told him.

"You could've died," Josh gently said with a slight pressure of his fingers around Connor's shoulder, as if the action would make the idea easier to understand. Connor forbade himself from slipping out of his grip; it wasn't the arm, just the shoulder.

"I know, but I wasn't critically damaged," he answered. "Even if my thirium levels were decreasing, I had at least half an hour before a shutdown was initiated."

Josh gazed at him some more, an undefinable glint in his dark eyes, and then let go of him. Connor saw him exchange a look with Markus, but was yet again unable to decipher what was going on between them. It unnerved him a great deal. His facial recognition program told him there was worry there, but he didn't understand why. He'd just done his job. He knew the risks, but he had to make himself useful and this was one way of doing it. He'd accomplished his mission and no one had gotten shut down, which meant it had been a success. Couldn't they see that he'd done everything right? What was it they were preoccupied about? Was there something he'd missed along the way? Where had he failed?  
Connor quickly backtracked through their conversation and concluded that his failure had been to suffer damage in the first place, as this seemed to be Josh and Markus' primary concern. Amanda had been concerned too, at first. Connor had to make sure this wouldn't happen again if he wanted to avoid failing, or their concern would turn into disappointment. 

"I can do better," he assured them. "I won't get shot again."

Markus and Josh looked at him with respectively disbelieving and confused faces. 

"Connor, I know I reprimanded you for getting shot in my place, but you did well," said Markus as he came closer. "You did what you would have done no matter what. You couldn't have done any better."

"I'll be able to avoid it next time," insisted Connor. "You don't have to worry about me."

Josh was silent but grim. Markus studied him closely, and the intensity of his mismatched eyes made Connor more uneasy than ever. There was something in the leader's gaze that he couldn't read, just out of reach but so close to his comprehension that he could nearly grasp its shape. Markus finally spoke.

"Do you realize that even if you hadn't gotten shot so close to your pump, even if you hadn't lost so much blood, I'd still be worried about you?"

Connor stared back at him, his mind suddenly blank. Why was he never able to understand where Markus was leading him in their discussions? He was a negotiator, he was supposed to always know what to answer in accordance to his interlocutor, to set multiple paths in the conversation and prepare for any change in direction. Despite all that, he had a difficult time following Markus. What he'd just said made no sense to Connor, because there was no point in worrying about someone who wasn't in danger. It could mean that Markus simply felt concern for him no matter what he did, and maybe Connor had already failed in preventing it from happening. Maybe it was only a matter of time before Markus had enough of him, but Connor refused to let it be the case. He'd come so far, he couldn't allow anyone to be disappointed in him again. 

He forced his voice to sound sincere and certain. "No one needs to be worried about me, Markus. I'm an RK800, I can handle anything."

"No, you can't," Markus gently argued. "No one can, and just because you're an RK800 doesn't mean you should be expected to."

"It's not about expectations. It's a fact," stated Connor, willing to convince the others just as he was convincing himself. "You shouldn't feel concern for me. It's completely unwarranted."

Markus looked like he was about to answer, but then stopped himself. He dropped his gaze to the ground thoughtfully, then looked at Connor again. "Is that what you believe? That I shouldn't feel worried about you at all, because you're an RK800?"

"Yes," Connor answered without hesitation. "I've shown you what I could do. I neutralized two snipers with a handgun and three bullets inside of me, without suffering critical damage, while successfully protecting you. I don't see why you'd feel the need to make sure I'm not in danger in such high-stress situations, when I'm clearly able to simultaneously protect you and stay alive."

Markus opened his mouth, and again stopped himself, though it seemed harder for him this time because he had to press his hand to his lips to do so. Instead of his initial reply, he said after another moment of reflexion: "I don't know why you think me worrying about you is a bad thing, but I promise you it's not."

Connor didn't know what else to say to get Markus to listen to him. "You don't need to."

"What will you do if I say I can't avoid it?"

Connor stared at him, ignoring the dread trickling through his wires, and calmly said: "It's your choice. I can't stop you."

He'd have to find another way to prevent Markus from feeling concern, somehow. If he didn't succeed, then he'd just have to make sure he would never be deemed useless, so that the concern would never turn into disappointment. He had to be better, he had to fulfill his role as negotiator and bodyguard more efficiently, he had to avoid mistakes and ensure that everything he did corresponded to the leaders' expectations. If they didn't want him to get shot, then he'd have to succeed in not getting shot.

"I didn't come here to listen to you two pouring your hearts out," North cut in annoyedly. "What are we going to do about what happened?"

Markus gazed at Connor for a few more seconds, and then turned around. "We're going to have to ask to work with the DPD and the FBI so we can investigate the attack. We're also going to transmit this incident to the White House and discuss the way we'll present it to the public with President Warren. This is going to make big waves once journalists get their hands on it, so we'd better be ready to face the consequences."

"I hate journalists," growled North.

"I think everybody does," remarked Josh.

Connor and Simon didn't have anything to add to this observation, and so they started discussing the possibility of press conferences ("As if we didn't have enough of those already," sighed Markus) and finding a way to make the attempted murder work in their favour for future negotiations, even if the prospect made them all ill-at-ease. The conversation went on for a while until everything had been covered and it was finally time to leave, and Connor hastily slipped out as quickly and discreetly as he could. Unfortunately, he didn't go unnoticed and heard Markus call after him. Although he wanted to focus on something else to get his mind off his failures and didn't feel like continuing their earlier talk, he couldn't ignore his leader. He slowed down.

"Connor, wait," repeated Markus as he came closer.

He turned around to face him. "I heard you the first time. Is there anything you need from me?"

"I just want to talk to you as your friend."

Connor stared at him and asked : "Not as leader?"

"As a _friend_ ," insisted Markus.

"Then I'd rather not talk," said Connor.

"What you said..." started Markus, and then he trailed off when he realized what Connor had answered. His expression was troubled. He hesitated and looked to the side, then back at him. "Do you really not want to? I didn't mean to be a bother."

Connor didn't want to hurt the leader's feelings, so he chose to mitigate his answer. "It's not against you, Markus. I'm not in the mood to talk any more, that's all."

Markus considered this, and nodded comprehensively. "All right, I understand, it's just that I'm a bit..." He stopped himself, and then said: "I won't force you, you're free to go."

"Thank you." And Connor left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 17/06/2019 -
> 
> Connor: I'm such a badass, look at me doing flips and shit *gets shot*  
> Markus: Oh no that's bad  
> Connor: Worry not, 'tis but a flesh wound  
> Markus, about to slap a bitch: You've got thREE BULLETS IN YOU
> 
> Hey pumpkin! The master of procrastination is back (I currently dislike myself very much for not working). You know, sometimes I wish I was a cat so that I could laze about while my human slaves over their lessons. Oh, and I sang another little [song](https://lost-tanuki-tales.tumblr.com/post/185634697244/how-about-showing-a-girl-some-love-la-vie-en) for Pride Month, it's a short cover of "La vie en rose".  
> We got past 5000 views, woot! Thanks guys <3
> 
> REMINDER: the Sixty poll ends today, so now if you want to give me your vote, you can do that by replying in the [thread](https://twitter.com/losttanuki/status/1138391602882338817) if you have Twitter. If you don't, you can send me an ask on Tumblr or reply to this [post](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/185516992783/dbh-fics-gml).
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Thanks to Sixty's marvelous intervention, Connor has been stuck in an even worse headspace than before. Let's all tell Sixty thank you for bringing us more angst!  
> \- Please tell me you fangirled/fanboyed over this scene : _The RK200 complied but a frown appeared on his face. "What are you going to do?"_  
>  _"My job," answered Connor, and he kicked open the door._  
>  I mean, I tried to make him sound really cool. If this was a movie it would be shot from a low angle with a lens flare and Connor's badass theme song kicking in as he came out of that car like the fucking Terminator.  
> \- Connor staring at his blood-covered hand : Well wouldja look at dat, I might die!  
> \- About the DPD's failure to bring thirium with them: when police androids suffered damage before the whole deviancy thing happened, they either got replaced or repaired directly in a CyberLife store. The DPD's thirium stocks are just sitting around somewhere in a supply closet and police officers never really acquired the reflex of bringing it with them. Fortunately Hank remembered of its existence when he caught wind of what was going on and grabbed some pouches on the way out in case Connor needed it, because he figured no one else would have thought of it. Fowler's gonna be mad Hank left like that, but Hank don't give a fuck 'cause he had an android son to potentially save.  
> There's no regulations for android victims for paramedics because so far androids have kept to New Jericho to get repaired, which is why the ambulance doesn't have thirium either.  
> \- Hank hates that he had to see Connor covered in blood, of course. Markus is annoyed that Connor doesn't realize his own worth and that he cares so little about his body, even despite what Kamski told him.  
> \- The thank you scene with the Jericrew has Connor's CPU furiously whirring to understand what the shit is happening, in his head he's going _ohwaitwhat- North **thanked** me?! What?!?!_ You might find him acting a bit oblivious, but it's just that good ol' denial going strong again. He's got several reasons to run Denial.exe: other people worrying=bad, and how could/why would anyone care for him?  
> \- Lastly, I imagine you were close to ripping your hair out by the end of the chapter, screaming at Markus to insist and get Connor to talk for rA9's sake. Don't be mad at Markus, guys, he knows insisting wouldn't get him anywhere, especially after Connor explicitely stated he didn't want to talk. There, there, I know it's frustrating but you're going to recover. All things in due time, as they say.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	28. Dark Waters

Connor hastily changed clothes in his cabin, then spent an hour walking around Detroit lost in thought, before finally going to the DPD to make his statement. He was relieved to see that the only observation there was to make about Detective Reed's desk was a lone cup that the human had likely not bothered to throw away before leaving, less so to see that Hank's desk was also devoid of its usual occupant, and perturbed when he was met with glares from all around the precinct. It didn't take long for him to understand why that was: he was a machine that had knocked one of their collegues unconscious, of course they would consider him as some kind of threat. If Connor had still been working for the DPD and the revolution had failed, Captain Fowler would undoubtedly have had him decomissioned for it- unless CyberLife had replaced him with Nines first. Connor hoped things wouldn't be as tense with the officer he was supposed to make his statement to. Officer Wilson had been kind to him before, one of the only police workers here that had treated him with same level of courtesy he did for humans; and even if Connor knew better than to hope for any genuine concern from the DPD, he couldn't help but doing so.

The officer looked up from his desk when Connor stopped in front of him, and his eyes crinkled into a smile. "Hey, Connor. It's been a while."

Connor was both surprised and grateful to see that there was no difference in Officer Wilson's behaviour. He dipped his head and politely answered: "Hello, Officer."

The man rose from his seat and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Come on, let's go in the office."

Connor followed him into the small room and Officer Wilson closed the door behind him.

"Go ahead and sit down," the man told him with an eloquent gesture of his hand. "I bet you've got a lot to tell me."

Connor complied, Officer Wilson sat across him and logged onto the computer on the desk, and soon he was ready to take the statement. Connor told him the events that had transpired and showed him everything his optical units had registered through interfacing with the computer. Officer Wilson watched the video file unfold on the screen and only asked him to pause it and play it back a handful of times, when he needed to get more details. He almost looked apologetic doing so, though Connor didn't understand why at first. It was when Officer Wilson told him he'd seen enough and Connor retrieved his hand that the man asked him: "Are you okay?"

Connor looked at him in surprise, not understanding why Officer Wilson would consider the possibility that this wouldn't be the case. 

"Yes."

The officer must have heard the question in his tone, because he added: "That must've been scary, even for you. You're a deviant now, right? Getting shot three times is... I mean, I only got shot once and it scared the crap out of me."

Connor stared at him, finding their conversation to be reminiscent of the one he'd held with the leaders of New Jericho, and understood why the officer had seemed so uneasy making him play back the video of what could have been his own demise. The human had thought it would make Connor uncomfortable seeing himself getting shot again.

"Of course getting shot is frightening to humans, Officer, your bodies are fragile and you feel pain. However, I'm an android."

Officer Wilson stared back at him and Connor read confusion on his face. "Yes, but you can die too, right? Shutdown, or deactivation, or whatever you call it."

"We can," conceded Connor.

Officer Wilson seemed contemplative now. "And you're not afraid of dying?"

Connor opened his mouth to answer, but realized he couldn't. Before, he would have said no. Maybe he would have even in this moment, if he hadn't remembered just now that he was the first android to have entered the DPD ever since the revolution had ended and that as such, he was speaking for his kind when answering. If Connor told Officer Wilson that he wasn't afraid to die, then the police workers would likely think that androids weren't really alive, and that wasn't something Connor could allow to happen. Besides, he wasn't sure himself why he'd felt so tense upon realizing he was losing thirium too fast; he hadn't been thinking about whether or not it would impede on the mission of attending the negotiations, and at the time it hadn't been an objective of his not to get shot. The strange sensation that had coursed through his wires when he'd seen his fingers covered in his own blue blood hadn't been completely unknown to him. He'd felt it when the Tracis had held him down. He'd felt it again when Daniel had driven the shears through his main thirium line. And he'd felt it before dev- No. No, he hadn't, it wouldn't make any sense. 

But Connor remembered Simon's death. Maybe... Maybe that feeling _was_ fear of dying.

"Connor?"

His head snapped up and his gaze met the questioning eyes of the officer. Connor absent-mindedly straightened his tie, even if it didn't need any straightening, and declared: "Androids can be afraid of deactivation. The difference with humans is that we aren't as easily damaged, and in most cases we can simply get repaired in New Jericho now that we're free."

"Oh. Yeah, that makes sense," answered Officer Wilson in a thoughtful voice.

"Are we done?" asked Connor.

The human handed him a tablet. "You just have to sign the statement."

Connor reached over and with a swift brush of his whitened fingertips agains the flat surface, registered his identity and serial number on the electronic form.

Officer Wilson smiled in approval. "You're free to go then. See you around, Connor."

Connor nodded and stood up to leave. "Have a nice day, Officer."

There was still no trace of Hank when Connor walked past his desk, and he hadn't received any news despite his friend's earlier promise of a talk which had sounded like trouble. Connor decided to go on patrol earlier than usual so that he didn't have to go back to Markus straight away, since he still didn't feel like talking. He didn't get an answer when he sent his friend a message later that evening, either. Upon returning to New Jericho to make his report after four hours of patrolling, Connor found the leader waiting for him in front of his headquarters with a rather tense RK900 at his side.

"Connor!" Nines exclaimed as soon as he was in their line of sight, and in a few long strides the android was facing him with an anxious tinge to his blue eyes. "Josh and Markus told me what happened, are you all right?"

"Yes."

There was not an ounce of conviction on his face. "Are you sure?"

"If you're not ready to believe the answer, maybe you shouldn't ask the question, Nines."

"It's just that you were hit in the chest, and I was afraid you would think-" Nines stopped himself then, remembering it wasn't just the two of them there, and changed his approach. "I was concerned that all of it had made your stress levels climb."

"If you wanted to know so badly, you could simply have sent me a message," observed Connor.

Nines glanced at Markus. "He said it would be better to leave you alone until you chose to come back."

"Well, he wasn't wrong," conceded Connor, realizing that the only reason he'd had the luxury of spending a few hours alone and undisturbed was thanks to Markus' interference.

"Why didn't you tell me what happened?" asked Nines in a voice that sounded just as reproachful as Hank and Markus both had at the scene of the shootout. Connor was still weary from the incident and getting admonished some more did not better his mood in the slightest, especially not when the one doing it was the more recent and reckless model.

"Because it would've been useless to tell you about something that was already over," he answered a bit testily.

"Do you think I appreciate being told by someone else? This isn't about usefulness, you can't just keep that kind of thing from me," insisted Nines.

"And why not?"

"Because I'm worried about you!" he exclaimed. This again. They were worried, always worried no matter what he did, and Connor couldn't stand it. Nines went on. "You can't keep quiet about getting shot, and especially not when you were so close to being killed!"

"When did _you_ decide you got a say in what I could and couldn't do?" Connor coldly retorted.

Nines stepped back like he'd been hit. "I..."

" _You_ don't get to tell me what I have to do or what you think is better for me. _You_ don't get to think I need your help when I tell you I don't," continued Connor in the same clipped tone.

Nines' gaze quickly flitted to Markus' side, who discreetly shook his head, and then he looked back at Connor with an expression of regret. "...I understand. I'm sorry for being overbearing."

"That's the understatement of the year. The fact that you are my upgrade doesn't mean I need your protection. Do you see me hovering over Markus like an anxious mother all the time?"

Connor saw Nines and Markus exchange another glance and he knew he'd made a mistake.

Markus smiled at him teasingly. "You do tend to be a bit too protective of me."

"That's because you're the deviant leader, not because you're an RK200," snapped Connor annoyedly. "You know full well how important you are."

"I told you I was sorry," said Nines. "I didn't mean to upset you like this. It mustn't have been easy to get shot at so many times, especially since they didn't bring thirium for you, and I understand if talking about it makes you agitated-"

"I'm _not_ agitated," Connor said curtly.

"All right, you aren't," said Nines in an appeasing tone. "I just wanted to see if you were okay, that's all. Do you want me to leave?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation. This conversation was really getting to him and it was better for the RK900 to go before Connor said something he'd regret.

Connor saw Nines' LEDs circle a pale yellow as he looked at Markus and he guessed that they were communicating about him, which did nothing to soothe the nervous anger shooting through his wires. He stopped at the thought, realizing that Nines was right. He _was_ feeling agitated, and he probably had for a while without taking the time to realize that. The RK900 left and Markus stepped closer.

"Connor, let's go inside."

"Why?" The challenging word was out of Connor's mouth before he could stop it. There was a buzzing inside of him and he wanted to move, to run, he couldn't calm down.

"We're going to take a moment to talk, just the two of us, like before." Markus set the example and opened the door to the cabin, leaving it open for Connor to follow him inside. He complied after three seconds, understanding that he had no choice if the conversation was to continue. He saw that Markus had seated himself next to the easel and the leader gestured for him to do the same on the other chair, which he reluctantly did. Connor was itching to play with his coin.

"Nines says your stress levels are abnormally elevated. I think you should go see Hank for the time being, at least until you get back to normal." 

"I don't want to disturb him."

"He's your friend, you won't disturb him. If anything, I'm sure he would understand considering the state he saw you in earlier."

Connor shook his head. "I can't do that. He hasn't been replying to my messages, so he must be busy with something else already."

"Have you tried calling him?"

"No."

"Then maybe you should try," said Markus encouragingly.

It was 9:02PM and Hank was undoubtedly awake, so Connor didn't hesitate very long. He realized Hank was voluntarily refusing to communicate with him when his call was denied in three seconds flat. Connor had no idea why that was as they'd left on normal terms earlier, aside from the promise of that lecture. 

"What is it?" gently asked Markus when he saw the look on his face.

Connor was troubled, but he kept his voice level. "I think Hank doesn't want to hear from me right now."

Markus' brow creased lightly in puzzlement. "Why?"

"I don't know," he answered in earnest.

"...Well, if you can't talk to Hank, maybe it would be better that you don't go to the charging station tonight. You should stay in your quarters," suggested Markus.

It was Connor's turn to be confused. "Why?"

The leader shifted in his seat and clasped his hands together between his open knees. "I'm not comfortable with letting you spend the night alone after today's events."

"I don't mind going to the charging station. The one they were aiming for was you, not me. I'm not in any danger."

Markus shook his head. "That's not my point. You were shot at, you know. Judging from the way you acted with Nines, it had more of an effect on you than you're letting on."

Connor narrowed his eyes. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying getting shot three times isn't something you can simply shake off, and it probably still has a lingering effect on your emotions," patiently answered Markus.

"Are you implying I'm in shock, or something like that?"

Markus only stared at him. The silence answered for him.

"I'm not," said Connor, his wires still buzzing. "That's a human reaction."

Markus continued staring.

"I'm _not_ ," insisted Connor, and now he felt like knocking that easel down, since hitting the deviant leader wasn't an option.

Markus finally spoke. "Whether you are or not isn't the problem. I don't think letting you go back to that charging station would be for the best."

Connor's voice hardened. "I'm not a child, Markus. I don't need you to look after me like this."

"You're not, but in your current state I'd rather be cautious. You make rash decisions when you're distressed."

"I told you, I'm not distressed. I'm fine!"

"Just spend the night in New Jericho, and I'll get off your back. Okay?"

Connor resisted the urge to glare at him, and in the end he bitterly said: "I don't really have a choice in the matter, do I."

Markus offered him a rueful smile. "No, sorry."

"...Fine. I'll stay," surrendered Connor, though he didn't make any attempt to sound less sullen. He wondered if this was how Hank felt when he complained about Connor 'babysitting' him. If it was, then he understood better why his friend was so displeased each time.

"Thank you, Connor," answered Markus. He sounded genuinely relieved and it only made Connor's mood darken to think that the leader didn't judge him capable of looking after himself. If the RK200 hadn't been leader, then Connor would have ignored his demand without a second thought. As it were, he had to obey if he wanted to avoid disappointing Markus.

The matter at hand finally settled, Connor made his report to Markus with a more withdrawn behaviour than usual in order to avoid showing just how ill-humored their conversation had made him. It could be extenuating talking with Markus. They often had opposing opinions when the subject of the conversation was Connor's well-being, and there was never a way to win unless the leader voluntarily chose to give up the fight. They were both stubborn in their own way, but when Markus was determined to have his, then he would get it no matter how long Connor was able to resist. It was extenuating, because it was one of the most frustrating things Connor had ever had the misfortune of going up against.

Once the report was over, Connor moodily stepped out and Markus didn't try to keep him from leaving. The leader may have won the round, but even he knew not to push. Connor went back to his quarters with a brooding hunch to his shoulders, closed the door behind him, and noticed that he still hadn't gotten a message from Hank. His fingers reached for his coin and he started playing with it to soothe the frayed sensation of his wires. A few more minutes rolled by, and when he figured that no amount of standing around would motivate Hank to communicate with him, Connor stepped up to his charging pod and connected the wire to the base of his neck before going into standby mode.

Connor was not woken by a glitch that night, but by a call from Hank. In the minute that followed, he'd gotten a self-driving car to head to his friend's home.

It was very early in the morning when Connor stepped up to the door and pressed a finger to the doorbell. He did so for exactly two minutes and only lowered his hand when his audio units failed to pick up any kind of cursing from within the house. It was possible the Lieutenant simply wasn't home, but Connor doubted it to be the case at 2AM. The android took out the key he carried in the pocket next to his quarter and slipped it in the lock. His suspicions were confirmed upon entering the house when Sumo came from the kitchen to see him, instead of the living room. The Saint-Bernard was calm and this observation immediately reassured Connor.

"Hello, Sumo," the android politely greeted the dog. "I'm here to help Hank."

The dog borfed approvingly and went to his cushion, leaving Connor to handle the situation. He stepped in the kitchen and his gaze fell upon the human's slumped shape on the table. A quick scan of the man and the area surrounding him confirmed two things : Hank was alive, and he had taken out the vodka again. There was broken glass on the floor, uncomfortably close to the man's bare feet, and an uncomfortable sensation rippled through Connor as he unvolunarily pulled up a memory file of a very similar situation. The android quickly tried to push it back down, to no avail, and made his way to his friend while he unsuccessfully ignored the video. He cautiously swiped the glass away with his shoe before waking him.

"Hank," he tried. He watched the human's face closely for any shift in expression, but the man was out cold. The video file finally stopped playing.

Connor reached out to tap on his face. "Hank?" 

The man made some smacking sounds with his lips, but that was the extent of his reaction. Hank had told him he really hadn't appreciated being hit in the face the last time, so Connor didn't want to try that again. There was no urgent case to attend this time, either. The android's only reason to be here was a call that had consisted in a mere 4 seconds of silence before the line had gone dead.

"Hank, I don't want to hit you," he told him as he started shaking the man's shoulder. "Wake up."

The man grumbled something incomprehensible and swatted at him with a heavy arm. Connor started shaking him harder.

"Fuck off," mumbled Hank, clearly this time.

"I don't think that's an option." Connor looped an arm around the lieutenant's shoulder and forced him upright. "If you continue this way, it's going to be another cold shower for you."

Hank groaned. "I'm feelin' jus' dandy. Don't need no cold shower."

"Do you feel like throwing up?"

"...Nah. I didn't even drink that much, put me down."

Connor guided the man to the living room and helped him sit on the couch. Hank jerked out of his grip and fell the rest of the way like a sack of potatoes with a thick "oof". Connor watched silently as he managed to pull himself on the side without falling off and rubbed his face.

"What time izzit?"

"It's currently 2:18AM."

"Aw shit, what are you even doin' here?"

Connor cocked his head. "You called me, Hank. I came as fast as I could."

The android saw Hank frown in the dim glow of the streetlights that lined the road outside the window. "I didn' call you."

"I received a call from your phone about fifteen minutes ago."

The man let his arm fall over his face with a curse. "Did I say anythin' weird?"

"It was only silence. 4 seconds of it, exactly." Hank was silent, but Connor could tell he hadn't fallen asleep as his breathing rate was still the same. "Is there anything you'd like me to do to help?"

"Jus'... Go back, Connor. There's nothin' else you can do."

Connor considered this option and quickly discarded it. "I'd rather stay."

Hank looked like he was about to argue, but then he just sighed defeatedly. "Fine. Do whatever."

The android stepped around the couch and went back to the kitchen. His optical units picked up the shards of glass again, which were thankfully devoid of any blood, and the same bottle and picture as that night. Upon noticing that the gun was nowhere to be seen, Connor felt a swelling feeling in his chest. He identified it as hope after a few seconds, and turned towards the couch.

"You didn't play russian roulette."

Hank grunted dismissively, and that was the extent of his answer.

Connor stared at the back of the human's head, then turned back around. He decided to clean up the kitchen and looked for a broom and dustpan, which he found in the narrow space between the fridge and the wall, and set to gathering the shards of glass. A quick reconstruction showed him that there was a 74% chance that the glass had been thrown rather than dropped, and Connor suddenly found himself wondering if Sumo had gotten injured. The big dog had come from the kitchen, and as far as Connor knew, dogs didn't usually pay close attention to where they put their paws. Sumo hadn't seemed injured upon greeting him, but he updated his objectives to check the dog's paws. Then he updated them again in an afterthought to check if Sumo had been scared. 

He pushed the glass into the dustpan and dropped the fragments in Hank's trashcan, then put everything back where it belonged. His gaze landed on the bottle of alcohol again and he briefly considered throwing it away with the glass shards, but decided against it. It would anger Hank, wouldn't stop his consumption of alcohol, and he would probably try to go out and buy another one in the middle of the night sheerly out of spite. Instead, Connor put the bottle next to the sink, because it felt somewhat wrong to leave it out on the table next to the picture of Cole Anderson. 

Having accomplished his objective to clean up the kitchen, he then moved on to the living room. Hank was staring blankly at the dark TV screen and didn't say a word when the android walked past him. Connor crouched down in front of Sumo, who looked at him with a curious rise of the two small patches of lighter fur that resembled eyebrows, without lifting his head off his cushion. Connor gave the back of the dog's ears a few scratches the way Hank had taught him to do it, and then silently reached for Sumo's front paws. His scans indicated that there were no foreign bodies in Sumo's pads, and he moved on to the hind paws. It was a bit more difficult to get the dog's cooperation there, but Connor managed it and lightly nodded to himself upon seeing that they were intact as well. He then started petting the dog again, on the flank this time. Sumo's heart rate was average for a dog his age and he showed no signs of distress, so Connor concluded the dog was all right. The two objectives filled out and disappeared, but Connor stayed where he was and continued sifting through the dog's fur. He didn't have sensors to pain, and as such didn't feel soft things the way humans did, either. Despite that, he liked feeling the light pressure of each individual dog hair brushing against his fingertips and it helped his stress levels decrease.

Connor needed to do this because was tense. He didn't like the way Hank kept staring in his drunken stupor, how alcohol made him a different man, so unlike his lieutenant or his friend. There was no bored gesturing, no teasing words, no loud gruff voice, no light in his eyes... No smile. Connor glanced at the human again. Hank was still sitting on the couch, not exactly upright but not completely slumped over either. Just staring. Connor wondered what could have been going on in the human's head. Did it sometimes loop the same memory the way Connor's processor did? Did it snag on certain elements and freeze up the whole body? What did it feel like to have emotions as a human? Connor often described it as a sensation coursing through his wires, or in general areas of his body like his chest or abdominal region. He wondered if humans were the same. At any rate, Hank's heat signature was a bit low.

"Hank," he said softly.

The human didn't react.

"Hank," he tried again, louder this time. Still nothing.

Connor gave Sumo one last pat on the head and straightened to walk over to the couch, stopping in front of his friend. "Will you let me help you to bed?"

Hank's gaze slowly drifted up to him. "I don' need to go to bed, Connor. Leave me alone."

Connor settled his features into a compassionate expression, the way Nines did to comfort him. "Could you at least tell me where you put away blankets and the like?"

Hank let out a heavy sigh. "Will you get off my ass?"

"Yes," he answered earnestly.

"Next to my shirts. The door on the right."

Connor nodded and quietly made his way to Hank's bedroom. He opened the closet and retrieved what he presumed was the softest blanket, even though Hank only had two besides the one on his bed, and gathered it in his arms before closing the door. Then he turned around, about to step out in the hallway, when a new objective appeared on his HUD. He glanced towards the hall, and then back inside the room. Hank wouldn't realize if he was gone a minute longer.

Connor put the folded blanket on the bed and opened the closet again, quickly rifling through the clothes inside. Then he closed it again and moved on to the adjacent door and went through the drawers. He looked inside the bedside table, which seemed to be the most likely place Hank would put the gun in, but all he saw there was its faded outline. Connor preferred not to deduce how long that meant Hank had had that gun in his possession. Still empty-handed, Connor looked under the bed and the pillow but saw nothing of note. It was when he turned around that his gaze latched onto a small shape neatly tucked between the wall and the closet, next to the window.

He hastily kneeled down to pull it out of the hiding spot, relieved to have finally found the weapon Hank used to play russian roulette. This must have meant that the reason Hank couldn't find the gun tonight was because he'd purposely hidden it from himself, knowing that he would be too intoxicated to remember that he had done so, and Connor felt pride for his friend at the thought. He had no idea if Hank checked the chambers before playing, but he took out the bullet anyway. He peered into the crack where the gun had been resting and reached further out, his fingers feeling for the square shape of an ammunition box. Hank would be angry at him for this if he found out, but Connor didn't want to take any chances. He had no doubt Hank could handle alcohol, even if he did so badly; a bullet to the brain however did not leave any second chances. What he was doing was selfish, and underhanded, but he didn't want Hank to die. 

_"You were lucky. The next shot would have killed you."_

Connor instructed himself to calm down when his stress levels started climbing. He just had to make sure Hank couldn't play roulette again, then go give him the blanket, and pet Sumo to lower them again. Connor slowly opened the window so that Hank wouldn't hear, then slipped his arm outside and turned over the box so that all its contents emptied out on the lawn. He added the bullet from the gun on the pile, where it landed with a soft plink, and then he put the empty gun and box back where he'd found them and closed the window. Only then did he take up the folded blanket and bring it to Hank.

His friend still hadn't moved and Connor's steps faltered when he saw the absolute misery etched on the human's face. Everything was screaming at him to make it disappear, to make sure it didn't come back, to do _something_ , but Connor had no idea how. He was incapable of helping. He forced himself to move forward and wordlessly draped the blanket over Hank, hoping it would be enough to make his temperature get back to normal despite the alcohol in his blood. If push came to shove, he could always increase the thermostat. Connor looked around to see if there was anything else he could do, and walked to the cupboard beneath the sink where he was most likely to find unused trashbags. He neatly folded one in a small black square and slipped it in the back pocket of his jeans. When he concluded that he'd done all he could, he went back to crouching next to Sumo.

Hank spoke half an hour later in the quietest voice Connor had ever heard him use.

"You know... Cole was a good kid."

Connor turned to look at him, but Hank was staring at his hands.  
Connor didn't answer. Hank didn't speak again.  
After five minutes of complete silence, Connor resumed petting the sleeping dog.

Hank finally fell asleep at 3:37AM at an acceptable body temperature. Connor's patrol was usually scheduled at 6:30, but today he was supposed to make his report to Markus earlier than usual so that they would reach the press conference on time. This meant he only had thirty minutes left to go in standby mode and he debated whether it would really be worth it, but then remembered that he couldn't allow himself to cut back on his time spent in standby mode anymore because of his code. Connor went in the kitchen and stood in the corner to initiate the countdown.

Connor blinked awake when the stasis cycle ended and walked to the couch, where Hank was still asleep. Connor sent a short message to his friend's phone and went to pet Sumo again, then quietly left and locked the door behind him. The objective to throw away the ammunition was patiently waiting on his HUD, and he was careful not leave a single bullet behind when he gathered them in the trashbag. The objective filled out and disappeared once he had emptied it in the dark waters of the Detroit River a few minutes later. He watched the strong current sweep away the eddies that the bullets had torn in the surface of the river as he slipped the black square back into pocket of his dark pants. Then he left to continue his patrol.

 

___  
\- 4:08 AM -

Connor: You did well calling me last night. Have a nice day, Hank.  
___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 22/06/2019 -
> 
> Officer Wilson: Are you afraid of death?  
> Connor: I'm not sure  
> Connor: I'm kind of already dead inside
> 
> Hey pumpkin. I had a rodeo with anxiety earlier and it was not pleasant, it's the reason why I'm updating later than usual. I should probably be sleeping right now but eh.  
> Also I don't like music festivals when they happen to be less than a mile away from where I live, those vibrations man, they give me heart palpitations. I daydreamed I had the power to create spheres of utter silence and spread it across the city so that I could finally have some DAMN PEACE AND QUIET ARGHHH  
> I also frequently dream that I could cast the Tongue-Tying Curse on my obnoxiously loud neighbours when they scream at their TV screen at 4AM. Unfortunately I can't do that and murder is illegal, so I'm stuck with those dumbasses yelling their lungs out right next to my wall. I think I got hexed by a witch specialized in noise or something.  
> It's late and I'm really tired so there might be typos and mistakes in this chapter, do point them out if you spot any.
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Officer Wilson is a Nice Guy and I like him a lot. Too bad he's like, the only one in the whole DPD who actually tried to see past the whole LED thing and still does. Reed deserved what he got in his humble opinion. He's even willing to hold a philosophical discussion with Connor! The latter is still very confused by his own emotions, but who can blame him after everything CyberLife put him through via Amanda. Poor Concon.  
> \- What did you think when Hank wasn't there at the DPD and wouldn't answer? Was the reason what you expected?  
> \- Connor's definitely in some degree of shock after nearly dying and reminiscing the other times that kind of thing happened to him. And remember that title card on the roof of the Stratford Tower? Yep, Connor was traumatized all right.  
> \- Nines didn't expect Connor to lash out like that, but he's understanding because he's well-versed in psychology thanks to his upgrades in social programming.  
> \- Markus still wanted to talk to Connor, but seeing as he wasn't himself in that moment, he decided to postpone it yet again.  
> \- Sumo is a good boy and deserves all the head pats in the world. He got scared at first when Hank threw down the glass, but when he realized that his human was slumping over he was reassured, since Hank slumping over usually means he's going to sleep. Connor has started to care a _lot_ for Sumo ever since they've learned to get to know each other. It's not the most harmonious friendship but it's obvious they like each other.  
> \- Connor has done enough research on depression and suicidal tendencies to know to be tactful and not pry right away as he looks after his tired dad.  
> \- Finally, the gun is empty. Let's hope it remains that way.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	29. Broken Bodies

It was 8:30 AM and Markus was waiting next to Connor in front of the entrance to New Jericho for the other leaders to join them before heading out to the press conference that was supposed to start two hours from now in Washington. Connor had moved up his patrol in his schedule, as he always had to when he was to accompany Markus and Josh to a conference. For some reason, humans liked to have those in the morning. Negotiations on the other hand were usually planned for afternoons, which was less of a bother for the head of security to accomodate his duties to. Things were a bit different today as it wasn't just the usual three leaders that were meant to attend this conference; the importance of the matter required the presence of all five leaders and Markus knew it was a risky situation. Nines was supposed to come as well for protection, but even if both him and Connor were more than capable of ensuring their safety, Markus was anxious. He refused to believe that Connor didn't have the same qualms he did about being exposed to dozens and dozens of humans in a few hours, many of which were probably very critical of androids, after nearly dying the day before.

The first thing Markus had noticed upon meeting up with Connor for his report that morning was that something about him felt off. Connor's tone of voice was as clear and direct as ever, and his brown eyes had the usual decisive glint, but there were a few times during which Connor thought no one was looking when a weight seemed to linger on his shoulders. It could've been because of the sniper incident, but there was no trace left of the tension he'd carried himself with during the evening and he seemed calm. Markus wondered if something had happened during the patrol, or if this was due to something entirely different.

He turned his head to the side. "Connor, I'd like to talk."

"Yes?" The android looked at him expectantly, clearly awaiting an order of some kind.

"As friends," Markus hurriedly precised. "Like I meant to do yesterday, before you left New Jericho."

Caution shaded his brown eyes upon knowing that this discussion wouldn't simply be about his duties, but Connor smoothly answered: "Of course."

Markus hesitated shortly. There were too many questions he wanted to ask Connor, none of which he expected the other to answer because they were all rather personal. He ended up settling for the question that had been circling in his mind for a while.

"I've been thinking about what you said. That we don't need to worry about you because you're an RK800."

Connor gazed at him and remained silent.

"I'd like to know why you think that way. Did someone tell you so?"

"No, it's simply common sense. I _was_ a state-of-the-art prototype only weeks ago."

"You can't expect your more efficient systems to constantly keep you out of trouble."

Slight annoyance pulled at the corner of Connor's mouth. "Enough that you don't have to feel the compulsive need to worry as soon as danger comes about. I know how to deal with that kind of thing."

"I don't doubt it, but just because you can doesn't mean you always will." Connor didn't answer to that, and there was a lull in their conversation. Markus watched him closely. "You do realize that I care for you, don't you? That you're my friend?"

"...Yes." 

Connor had taken just a second too long to answer for it to be convincing, and Markus frowned. Of course he was able to tell that this kind of thing made Connor uncomfortable, and he had no doubt that it was probably linked to what their roles had been during the revolution. Maybe Connor didn't feel the same way Markus did, and maybe he didn't even want them to be friends at all; maybe the only reason he spent time in Markus' quarters was out of some strange sense of debt because it was what Markus wanted, or a sense of duty to protect. Even so, that didn't change the fact that Markus trusted and appreciated Connor. 

"Why is that so hard to believe?" he finally asked.

"It's not exactly believing it that's the problem." Connor looked away. "I'm just... a bit confused."

"Can you tell me why?"

Again, Connor remained silent. 

Markus stared at him and after a while, he said: "I'm sure you already know this since I keep telling you, but what you did before doesn't matter to me. I like you, Connor. You're a good person, and you're not CyberLife's tool anymore."

Connor's head snapped up and Markus hadn't expected the unguarded astonishment he saw in his eyes, so for a moment they just stared at each other in silence. Markus realized that he'd never outright told Connor that he _liked_ him; he'd shown it through his actions and had thought that those were enough for the RK800 to understand, but maybe he'd been doing it wrong. Maybe a more direct approach was best for Connor. The latter quickly recovered from his initial surprise and shifted uneasily on his feet, his gaze dropping to the ground. Markus wasn't sure if it was a trick of the light, but he thought he saw the other's skin tone darken ever so slightly over his cheekbones.

"...Thank you," said Connor.

The subdued tone of his voice wasn't something Markus was used to hearing and it took him aback. A beat of silence passed before he could find something to say.

"I'm only telling the truth. Do you think I'd consider you my friend if I didn't appreciate you? I like talking with you, you know. Even if it's not always smooth progress," he teased.

Connor looked up at him, and Markus thought he looked a bit amused when he agreed: "Not always."

Markus hesitated to continue his line of thought now that Connor seemed to be in a better mood, because he didn't want to ruin that; but he'd been pushing back this conversation for too long already, so he kept going.

"I noticed you weren't at ease when I called you a friend, and I think I can understand why you'd react that way after everything that happened. The thing is, I don't understand why you think it's such a bad thing that I worry for you."

Just as he'd expected, the light in Connor's eyes immediately flickered out and his expression reverted to its usual neutrality. "We already had this conversation, Markus. You don't-"

"Need to, I know, but I will every time you get damaged and that's not going to change. Look, I worry for Simon, North and Josh too when they face dangerous situations."

Annoyance peeked through Connor's shuttered features. "Of course, but it's different for them. They aren't RK800s."

"Why do you always say that?"

"Markus, you've all seen me fight aboard the Jericho. You saw me take out those snipers yesterday. Do you really think you need to watch after me?"

"Nines found you broken and deactivated in an alley, and I saw you get bested by Sixty," gently answered Markus. "You're not invincible, Connor."

Any trace of emotion that had been left on Connor's face completely vanished then, and he levelly told him: "That won't happen again." His voice had that mechanical quality to it that Markus had learned to identify early on as a sign that he'd hit a sore spot.

"Look, I'm not trying to make you feel bad about yourself with this, I just want you to understand that it's possible for you to be in danger just like it is for anyone else. I don't know why you keep pretending that it's not the case, but it is. You have to accept that, now that you can't simply upload your memories to a new body."

Connor looked like he wanted to argue, but then he stopped himself and stayed quiet.

Markus continued. "Even if it was the case, you have to understand that the reason I get worried isn't just the physical aspect of shutting down. I know how scary it is, Connor. Knowing you're about to die, realizing what happened once you reboot... I know it has to be scary for you too."

Markus had never told him that he'd shut down once already and this line seemed to catch Connor's attention. He expected the RK800 to ask him about it, but Connor refrained from doing so and just said: "I don't see what point you're trying to make."

"I think you do," said Markus. Connor was smart, after all, and Markus had seen him find dozens of possible interpretations of a sentence from the president on several occasions. He always saw what point people were trying to make.

"If you're talking about the psychological effect of an imminent shutdown, I'm sure you've noticed that I was designed to withstand important levels of stress."

Connor had to know that he was answering besides the point and it irritated Markus, but he didn't take the bait. 

"Let me reformulate, then. Why do you dislike it so much when someone is worried about you?"

Connor stared at him. It looked like he was struggling somewhere deep inside of him to tell Markus the reason of it all, his brown eyes intense in an attempt to reach out. His lips parted and for one single moment it seemed like he would finally manage to put it out in the open, but then his gaze dimmed and he simply said: "It isn't relevant."

Markus nearly let his frustration break through upon hearing the familiar deflection. Some deeply instinctual and angry part of Markus wanted to shake some sense into Connor, even find a way to force interfacing with him, but the other side felt guilty of even thinking about taking such drastic measures. Markus would never do that. It had been difficult enough building what little trust was now between him and Connor, and he didn't want to ruin everything by pushing too hard. It was always like that with Connor, a constant motion of pushing and pulling that could topple everything over if Markus ever went too far. Not for the first time, Markus wished there was a way to physically pry open the iron shell that seemed to surround Connor.

He took a moment to gather his thoughts, and then nodded slowly. "Okay. You don't want to tell me, I understand. You don't have to tell me right now."

Connor looked away from him without answering. They were silent for a while, until Markus decided to broach a different concern of his.

"Connor?"

The other's head turned to him warily. "Yes?"

"It's fine if you won't tell me what I want to know, but I have a request. What you did yesterday was dangerous, so all I ask of you is that you don't do it again."

Connor frowned in disapproval. "I couldn't just hide until the threat was gone, Markus, I had to take out those snipers. I'm your bodyguard, of course it's a dangerous job."

"No, I'm talking about when you shielded me from that first bullet."

"I already told you that you would've been damaged otherwise, and it would've been slower to push you aside."

"You don't understand," Markus told him, patience steadily draining.

Connor seemed to have caught onto it, because he was paying close attention to him now. "What don't I understand?"

Memories rushed through Markus' mind. The march. Getting hit by the first bullet. Falling to the ground. The thundering in the ground of dozens of androids running for their life. The featureless human coming closer to finish him off. The android jumping over him to attack the masked soldier. Someone pulling at his arm to get him to safety. Voices urgently shouting in his ear for him to get up and flee. John's gaze meeting his own, and another gunshot. Markus clenched his fist and gravely looked Connor in the eye. 

"I've already had someone die for me before," Markus told him. He wasn't sure if he managed to prevent the guilt festering inside of him from filtering through his voice. "I don't want that to happen ever again."

"It won't," Connor assured him without missing a beat.

"How can you be so sure? You took a bullet for me only yesterday."

"My mission is to ensure androidkind's safety, which means protecting you by any means necessary."

Markus felt like this wasn't going anywhere, that Connor wasn't listening to him. He tried not to raise his voice. "And what if you die doing so?"

"I won't die. The bullet I shielded you from didn't land anywhere close to a major biocomponent, I had it under control. This mission will last for however long androids need me and I intend on seeing it through."

Markus stared at him, wanting to believe his words. Connor spoke with such conviction that it wouldn't have been a very difficult thing to do, but he still had to insist.

"Give me your word that you won't sacrifice your life in order to protect me."

Connor's reply was instantaneous. "You have my word."

It was a small relief, but a relief nonetheless. Markus nodded and said: "Don't go back on it. New Jericho needs you. _I_ need you. I don't think I would be managing things so well if you weren't next to me to help."

Connor took a step closer to him, and now they were facing each other separated only by a distance of a few inches.

"I'll always be by your side, Markus," Connor confidently said. "You can count on me."

Markus looked into his friend's brown eyes and only saw loyal certainty in them. He felt slightly better at the sight of it, at the sound of the promise in Connor's voice, and something unwinded in his chest. Maybe it was okay to believe that they'd be all right. 

"Thank you, Connor."

He was grateful that Connor was trying to make him feel better, but was also ashamed that he was the one receiving comfort from an android who had nearly died just hours ago. Markus was supposed to stay strong, he was the deviant leader, for rA9's sake. He shouldn't have let Connor see how affected he'd been by John's death at the Freedom March, shouldn't have sought reassurance from the RK800 when Connor himself had enough problems to deal with on his own. Markus hadn't even been able to do anything to alleviate the psychological shock Connor had been in last night, and even if his friend seemed to be doing better now, Markus felt like he should have tried harder. The reason he'd resisted that urge was because he knew that they weren't close enough for Connor to accept him in that moment. It only would've angered him further if Markus had insisted to talk, and given Connor's state at the time, it could have led to some extreme reactions which North surely would have used against Connor in the future.

There was another reason why Connor's words brought him comfort. It had been weeks since Connor had last displayed self-destructive behaviour, but Markus hadn't allowed himself to fully hope that it was gone. He remembered distinctly the guilt that had so obviously weighed on Connor's shoulders in the church, and most concerningly he remembered how Connor had told him that it was all right if Markus chose to kill him. As a deviant, Connor should've been afraid to die- and he likely had been- yet Connor had gone ahead and absolved Markus of his murder, nearly inciting him to do so. He'd seemed so surprised when Markus had told him he was one of their own, as if he'd fully expected to get shot right then and there. Guilt had driven him to say that to Markus, guilt that Connor obviously still harboured even if he didn't mean to show it. 

Connor had ran away to kill himself because of his AI taking over. He'd asked to be deactivated even when Markus had told him he was going to live. He'd accepted Kamski's proposal of a killswitch instantly. He'd been willing to reach critical levels of battery before asking for help. He'd chosen to spend his nights alone in a deserted station. He'd chosen not to alert anyone of his dangerously high stress levels during his glitch. It had been a while since he'd last put himself in danger, but Markus couldn't be completely sure Connor wouldn't try that kind of thing again. 

Other androids had displayed similar tendencies amongst Josh's patients, but those cases were usually linked to rapidly increasing stress levels and the resulting self-destruction, and the androids affected often displayed obvious signs of emotional distress. Connor's behaviour was nothing like theirs; it was more subtle, too much so, and Markus had caught on far too late every time he'd danced on the line of deactivation. He was willing to believe that Connor really did want to live: his brown eyes were honest when he told him so and it was obvious he wanted to help their cause for as long as they'd need him there. The fact that Connor clearly didn't intend to die was reassuring, but an inkling of doubt remained. 

Connor still refused to tell him what Sixty had whispered into his ear, just like he still refused to talk about anything personal. There were too many unknowns about Connor that were certainly dangerous to his well-being and Markus didn't want to let his guard down. He'd asked Nines about the exchange between Sixty and Connor, but had hit yet another wall. For some reason, Connor had asked Nines not to tell anyone about what had been said, just like he didn't allow him to say what had happened on the night Nines had found him broken in the street. Markus wondered just how many things Nines knew about the fifth leader of Jericho that no one else did, and why Connor was so adamant about keeping all these things to himself when they had to be a source of anguish.

Josh had shared his worries with Markus about the effect of such demands on Nines' mental state; because the PJ500 and the RK900 had grown closer, Josh saw the subtle signs when no one else could that Nines was more disturbed by the secrets he was witholding than he let on. Markus had never seen those signs himself, but the level of concern Josh felt for the younger android was proccupying enough. Fortunately, Nines didn't have the same aversion to talking about his feelings as Connor did, and wasn't recalcitrant about interfacing either. Markus trusted Josh to look out for Nines while he himself tried to watch over Connor. The truly disturbing part was that Nines was this affected by things he hadn't lived himself; if Josh was worried about Nines' stability, then what did that entail for Connor?

He was pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of approaching footsteps and was greeted by the sight of his three advisors drawing close. 

"Where's the other one?" asked North with a frown addressed to Connor.

Connor's LED circled and he answered: "On his way here. He shouldn't be long."

He'd barely finished his sentence when they heard the RK900 coming around the corner, his heavy-set build making his running approach loud enough for all of them to hear. The longer Markus got to know him, the more differences he could see between him and his predecessor. Nines had obviously been designed to privilege damage over stealth, while Connor was much lighter on his feet and quite probably faster in his movements. Even if one was the upgrade of the other, they were different models: North had found a tablet during one of her raids which mentioned a new model of combat androids that had been intended for military use, likely the RK900, while Connor had been created to mingle with humans on the police force. Markus had been paying more attention ever since then to these details, like how much friendlier Connor's appearance was, and how much more imposing Nines was meant to look. It was a strange thing, really, because in the end Nines tended to be less frightening to androids than Connor. Markus wondered how both RK models fared with humans.

"I'm sorry for being late," said Nines when he drew up to them, and he sounded annoyed. "I was intercepted by some children on the way here."

Connor looked a bit surprised. "Children?"

"They're incredibly difficult to shake off," muttered Nines, and Markus figured that the RK900 probably wasn't very fond of them.

Simon and Josh seemed amused by his discomfort, but North just glared at him. "Very interesting. Can we go now?"

Nines shot her a haughty look. "How uncanny for you to ask permission."

"I'm _not_ , you smarmy jerk. I'm telling you to move your ass, we've got more important things to do than listen to your daycare report."

"All right, all right," said Josh, and he pulled her along.

They all started moving towards the entrance, and Markus noticed Connor trailing behind them out of the corner of his eye. There it was again; that slight sag of his shoulders that would've been imperceptible in most, but was so out of place compared to his usual straight and proper stance. Markus hesitated to ask him what was wrong, but before he could make up his mind, Nines had fallen in stride with Connor and they started silently communicating. Markus figured it was better for Nines to be the one informed of Connor's problem, and looked back ahead to follow his companions out of New Jericho.

The flight to Washington was eventless and the press conference went about as smoothly as Markus had expected it to, which was to say not at all. Most of the journalists were complete vultures and Connor was the one who had it the worst between the ones asking if he'd killed the human out of revenge for the recall centers, those who accused him of being too much of a machine to care for human lives, and the others believing that he'd known there was a risk for casualties but hadn't even considered giving the human a chance. Markus wasn't spared either, of course, since he was the deviant leader and supposedly should have prevented any deaths from happening at all. Thankfully, North was smart enough to keep her mouth shut despite the visible anger and disgust that constricted her features. Both Simon and Josh were doing their best to control the surging journalists and President Warren herself had a difficult time saying her piece. When the conference ended and they were finally allowed to leave, Markus wasn't quite sure what the journalists had taken away from this exactly. He'd managed to explain that the attack had originated from an anti-android group, and he'd had the police reports to back up his claim that the resulting casualty had only been in self-defense. He didn't know if the journalists had even listened at all. He hoped that some of them had taken into account the fact that he'd helped save the life of their human escort, but he didn't doubt that this positive fact would be drowned beneath harsh criticism against the free androids of Detroit.

He and Connor had about two hours to gather themselves before following up with another session of negotiations with the president, so Markus took advantage of this little break to check on his companions. North was sitting on the ground and Simon was standing next to her, while Josh was talking to Connor and Nines in hushed tones. It was quiet and Markus noticed that they were all very tense save for Josh, but he had a suspicion that the PJ500 was only pretending to be relaxed for Connor's sake, because the latter had his arms crossed so tightly across his chest that it looked like he wanted to fold in on himself.

He stopped in front of the group of five and asked: "Everything all right?"

North threw a caustic glare towards the closed doors behind which the last stragglers were undoubtedly hoping for another few pictures. "I _hate_ humans."

"Maybe you shouldn't say that here," suggested Simon in a somewhat tense voice.

"It's not like it's a secret," she huffed, and resumed scowling at the ground.

Markus had had his fill of humans for the day as well, so he could comprehend how she felt. He gave her a small, understanding smile. "I know it wasn't easy, but we were expecting this to go the way it did."

"Well, we've all done our fair share of press conferences before," said Josh quietly. "I think we're all tired of it."

Simon nodded in agreement and North didn't protest. Nines only had eyes for Connor, who was tapping his fingers against his arm, and neither of the RK models said anything. Markus didn't think he liked the withdrawn nature of the RK800's body language, because that probably meant the journalists' questions had gotten to him. Connor had remained impressively stoic through it all, though it could also have been that facade he'd used on Markus before. Markus didn't think his LED had gone red at any given time, but it was definitely brighter than the usual yellow. What was it that had disturbed him the most? Being called a machine? Being accused of taking a life without a second thought? Being accused of having enjoyed killing that sniper? Nines looked worried and was leaning a bit in his personal space, but his LED was blue so Markus concluded that Connor had refused to communicate with him. He walked over to them and stopped in front of Connor.

"Are you feeling up to the task of negotiating?" Markus asked him cautiously.

"Yes," Connor answered curtly. He didn't look him in the eye and the way he was holding himself reminded Markus of the way he'd acted in the church.

"...Do you want to talk?"

Connor turned his head away. "No."

Markus glanced at Nines, who discreetly shook his head in a helpless gesture. It seemed Connor was completely closed off for now, and Markus wished they could go back to New Jericho with the others. Getting Connor to relax often worked when he was in Markus' quarters and all Connor had to do was either watch him paint or read one of his books. It had surprised Markus to see that the RK800 also appreciated the physical weight of a book in his hands and liked to take the time to read pages one after the other. Somehow, he'd always thought that the ex-deviant hunter was all about efficiency and less about enjoying the small pleasures in life. North and Simon themselves didn't really get why Markus enjoyed reading physical copies when they could just download the plot, and it seemed like a waste of time to them. Josh liked books, but more because of their familiarity than out of actual enjoyment. 

For now, however, he and Connor were doomed to spend the afternoon with the usual group of more or less pleasant humans they had to negotiate with. Markus stepped away from Connor, knowing that Josh and Nines had more of a chance to get him to talk in his current state than he did, and stopped next to North. She looked up at him after a few seconds.

"That was shitty. Shittier than I've had in a while," she declared.

"Can't disagree with that," he answered. He leaned against the wall next to her and added: "I wish we could just be done with all of this."

"Markus, not you too," said Simon disapprovingly. "Try to be a little more formal, there are still humans around."

North swatted at his calf. "Relax, Simon, stop being such a worrywart."

He frowned at her. She raised meaningful eyebrows. He sighed and crouched down too. "Don't say I didn't try to warn you when the media starts taking things you said out of context."

"It's fine, it's not like they can't take formal stuff out of context either," asserted North.

Markus listened to them go back and forth on his right and the lull of Josh's low voice on his left, and wondered if all of this would ever come to an end. He just wanted to live in peace, and he knew the others did too. He wanted to go back to his father's home- his home- and look after Carl, and play piano and chess, and read new books to discuss them with him, and take Carl outside once winter would be over. He wanted to paint on Carl's huge canvases and invite his friends to try it out with him. He wanted them to have time for themselves, to walk around Detroit carefree rather than constantly checking their surroundings, have some fun and enjoy the scenery instead of raiding stores. He wanted androids to have more space to live in, and bring back all those that could be reactivated, and spend his first summer as a free man. He'd gone to the sea on very few occasions, and wanted to return there. Maybe they'd be able to go there together... Maybe by then, they wouldn't have so many things to do all the time for their people.

North and Simon decided to leave first, while Josh and Nines took a little longer to follow. Markus left Connor alone for the remaining time they had to wait. He was still silent when it was time to go, but as soon as the both of them stepped into the room, his whole demeanor shifted and the android at Markus' side became purely negotiator and bodyguard. His hands were crossed behind his back and his features set in determination, and he stood ramrod straight as Markus sat across from the council. He looked the same as he usually did, but Markus wasn't dupe. It was that switch that Connor flipped when he needed to do his job no matter what state of mind he was in, a facade that came down to hide the real Connor from the rest of the world. Markus didn't really like when that happened, but it was the RK800's way of doing things and it wasn't like Markus could change that.

They poured over their pending projects and the legislation that they intended to tweak before presenting it in a Congress hearing, which in itself took up a few hours, and then Markus brought another subject to the table. The sniper incident had gotten Markus to think about how lackluster the health department was in dealing with android emergencies. When he'd seen the blue blood trickling down Connor's clothes and his haste to replenish his levels, levels that would only have kept decreasing if Hank hadn't been there, Markus had realized that they wouldn't only be able to count on New Jericho's infirmary in the future. He had several demands to put more pressure on the humans so that they would create protocols for damaged androids in the emergency medical services, but Markus knew it would be an uphill battle.

The first was to ask CyberLife to create major biocomponents that would be compatible for a majority of models, notably the thirium pumps and pump regulators. CyberLife's reputation had been severely damaged by the revolution and they were scrambling to keep it together, so Markus was counting on their precarious situation to convince them that making these biocomponents would be a show of good faith towards androids. It was likely humans wouldn't easily forgive CyberLife, but if the corporation was willing to help androids, then it could have a chance to survive this disaster. North and Josh hadn't approved this decision because they wanted nothing to do with the corporation, but Simon and surprisingly Connor as well had agreed that getting CyberLife to cooperate would be the best strategy. Markus had no doubts that Connor didn't like it, but had let his reasoning take over his qualms.  
Not only was Markus asking for the creation of supercompatible biocomponents, but he'd also asked for the CyberLife Tower to be handed over to them so that they would be able to manufacture and repair biocomponents in the future with some level of independence. This demand, of course, was still in progress. CyberLife was not willing to let go of the Tower or to let androids become more self-sufficient than they already were, and the humans in general weren't very favorable to the idea. Markus was still hopeful that it would lead somewhere, since President Warren hadn't outright refused it.

The second demand was for ambulances to carry stocks of thirium, cauterizing supplies, and those supercompatible biocomponents when called to a scene that involved androids. Though a shutdown was usually a matter of minutes in most cases, and the compatible biocomponents would consequently rarely be of use, it would still better to bring them in case they could be applicable. The humans immediately balked at this notion.

"It would be a huge waste of resources to have ambulances making trips left and right for androids who can simply reboot," declared the Secretary of Health and Human Services.

"It's a very serious matter to declare that you would allow shutdowns to happen simply because androids can be repaired after the fact," Connor replied. "As I'm sure you've understood by now, shutdown or deactivation is equivalent to death. It causes both psychological and physical harm to the android concerned and can be irreversible. You are essentially claiming that it would be acceptable to let a sentient and humanoid being die without even attempting to aid them, under the pretext that they can resucitate. I'm sure you can see the moral and ethical implications of such a statement."

"I'm sorry, but I'll be honest with you: moral and ethical issues come second. Do you think we have that kind of money to spare?"

Markus had quickly come to understand that the man was neither pro- nor anti-android, but was entirely focused on economical resources. He seemed to be lacking a heart, too, but then again most of the humans in this room apparently had the same condition. How different they were from Carl and Hank. He looked at his side, where Connor retaliated with incredible ease.

"It would be less expensive in the long run to have ambulances properly equipped and androids tended to before they shut down, rather than having a 100% rate of shutdowns and the consequently more extensive repairs that would be required, the costs of psychological and physical follow-ups, and of course, the secondary issue of very real deaths." 

Connor's voice was professional but cutting, and Markus admired his cool. He himself wouldn't have been able to uphold such a smooth attitude. He'd lost his temper a few times before, but fortunately it had never gone too far since Connor was there to keep him in check, as well as the human bodyguards in the room.

"We'll have to go over the numbers," conceded the Secretary, and Connor stepped back behind Markus, signalling that this part of the conversation was over and that this was as far as he could go.

Markus thanked him wirelessly and continued with his two other demands: for hospitals to add a repair section to their facility, and for CyberLife to provide better equipment to both New Jericho and those hospitals in order to have less risky procedures when fixing broken androids. The Secretary of Health never failed to put the brakes on every one of these projects and none of them were greenlit on the first turn, but Markus had expected it to be the case. He was getting used to how slow the humans were in handling changes to their system, and truth be told, he found it slightly pathetic. These were the beings that had mistreated his people through spite, neglect, and violence; beings that had held his people in such low esteem that most of them didn't care if an android was dying right in front of them. He couldn't believe that the only way to get any kind of progress done was to wait, wait, always wait for these humans to organize themselves. Markus was annoyed. It had always been slow progress, but today he felt even tenser than usual. That mess of a press conference probably hadn't helped.

The negotiations dragged on for another two hours during which they discussed giving androids jobs again and extending New Jericho's limits even further. That was the most they could cover in one afternoon, and when they were finally dismissed, Markus was feeling extremely weary. He only wanted one thing: to get back to his quarters for some peace and quiet. He walked down the hall and out of the building as Connor adjusted his stride to his own, always slightly behind and to his right.

"I'm sorry, Markus," Connor suddenly said out of nowhere. Markus looked at him, but he continued before he could open his mouth. "I never should have shot that human in the head. I should've found another way. Now humans will have yet another pretext to say that deviants are killers."

Markus looked at him concernedly. His friend's gait was stiff and there was an unhappy tilt to the corner of his lips. 

"You did what you had to. You protected both me and yourself, and that's the best you could've done."

"No, it's not," Connor said with a vehement shake of his head. "I should've done better." 

"If you hadn't done that, _you_ would have been the one dead and I would have followed soon after. You didn't have a choice."

"I had one. I just failed to see it."

Markus took hold of Connor's shoulder to stop him in his tracks, and they faced each other. "Why are you so hard on yourself?"

Connor frowned at him. "I'm not."

"Yes, you are. You're always saying you're going to do better even when no one is asking you to."

"Because I _should_ do better," Connor stated like it was common sense. "I made a mistake, and I have to make up for it."

"It wasn't a mistake, Connor. We're both alive. You did what you had to, and I would've done the same in your place."

Connor stared at him, and it was clear he hadn't expected that to be Markus' answer from the silence that followed. Then he wordlessly brushed off Markus' hand and gestured for him to keep walking ahead, so Markus did, but he never took his eyes off the grim RK800.

"Did something happen since then?" Markus finally asked.

Connor's gaze snapped up to his face, and then darted back to their surroundings. "...No." His fingers danced at the side of his thigh. "Not... It's nothing you should concern yourself about."

"Anything that disturbs you will be my concern, you know. That's just how things are going to work between us."

Connor didn't answer.

"You're friends with Hank, you know what it's like to care about someone," Markus continued. "I can't claim that our friendship is as deep as the one you have with him, but is it really so difficult to envision it? You can tell me what happened, Connor. Nothing you say will make me change my mind about you."

Connor didn't look him in the eye, and he was silent until he said: "I'd rather not talk about this. It's personal."

"Oh." Markus looked back ahead, feeling a tiny bit frustrated. Off-limits, then. "You should start by saying that next time. I won't insist if it's personal."

He saw Connor look up at him again out of the corner of his eye.

"Thank you."

They flew back to Detroit, and Markus insisted that Connor take the time to relax once they reached New Jericho. He would've liked for the both of them to take a moment to rest in his quarters, but Connor chose to go find Nines so he could apologize for ignoring him after the press conference. Markus watched him leave with some regret, but he knew that his passive ways of reading and painting probably had less chances of soothing Connor's guilt than Nines' very active conversation skills. Not for the first time, Markus wished Connor was as much at ease sharing his thoughts with him than he was with Nines. Maybe then Markus would be able to do more to help Connor. Right now, however, he didn't have much to go on except for what he could deduce from Connor's behaviour and the fact that Connor had admitted to having a hard time with deviancy. It would have to be enough.

There was another afternoon of negotiation during which the council argued about reviving dead androids being unethical and Markus reminding the humans that they were responsible for many of those deaths being completely unjustified. There was a representative of CyberLife there as well named Mrs. Darian, a sturdy woman with long black hair and a very unhappy expression, who was impressively sharp and quick to counter any kind of argument. Markus let Connor take the reins when it was clear that he wouldn't be able to compete with the visible genius CyberLife had sent forth, and she seemed to be a formidable foe even for Connor. Despite how pertinent she made everything that left her mouth sound, she couldn't fight against the overwhelming amount of evidence that CyberLife had utterly and completely messed up. The corporation wasn't in any position to make its own demands, a majority of humans certainly wouldn't trust CyberLife anymore, and the only reasonable option left for them was to side with androids from now on. That didn't mean they were ready to relinquish their hold on android-related products, and nothing had been decided by the time the afternoon came to an end.

It was during the following negotiation session that Markus and Connor finally received the news that CyberLife was giving up the Tower. The humans were a bit grim-faced when they delivered the message, but Markus couldn't care less. The relief that swelled in his chest was mirrored by the fleeting widening of Connor's eyes when they both realized that they could finally start making more biocomponents for their deactivated bethren. All they needed to do was expand New Jericho to the fullest and start making trips to the landfills scattered across Detroit; at the moment, it meant that they could start with the closest ones. There was no time to bask in this relief, however, and Markus graciously accepted the news like a respectable leader was supposed to before filing the information away for later so as not to be distracted by it for the rest of the negotiations. Connor had given him some lessons in the art of manipulation and had warned him before that this kind of tactic was fairly common: announcing good news to a second party before the actual negotiations begun made them more favorable to the suggestions the first party would later put forth. Markus hadn't forgotten that, and neither had he forgotten that the humans he was talking to were absolutely ruthless and wouldn't hesitate to take advantage of him if he let his guard down. 

The other shoe dropped soon enough; of course, there were conditions to this concession. CyberLife had accepted to hand over the Tower, but the androids weren't allowed to tamper with the video surveillance that was installed there. This meant that CyberLife would have full access to the activities that would take place inside. Markus had expected that CyberLife wouldn't accept to lose complete control of what used to be theirs, but he figured this was a small price to pay for independence. Nothing sensitive would be going on in the Tower; when he'd proposed this course of action to his advisors, they'd all agreed that it would only be a means for biocomponent production. It would have been foolish to even think of converting the Tower to a private place, considering CyberLife's propensity for underhanded tactics. Markus had no real way of knowing whether the corporation was still searching for ways to take over his people or not, like they'd tried to with Connor, but he had a fair idea of it.

"What about the RK800 production line?"

Connor's sudden question brought Markus out of his preoccupying thoughts and he stared at his advisor in surprise. Connor didn't usually talk in his place unless Markus needed help, but this time there hadn't even been a warning. They didn't communicate wirelessly in front of the council unless it was only in one way, so that the humans wouldn't think they were plotting right under their noses, but Connor usually told him when he was about to step in so that they would appear more coordinated then their human counterparts. 

Connor was staring at CyberLife's representative. "You shut it down and we found no way to reboot the RK800s. The RK800 model 60 told us you'd meant to do this as a way to make sure he and I would be definitely deactivated if we were to shut down, but you must have an option to go back on this decision. I know for a fact that CyberLife's actions are never one-way."

Markus repressed a frown as Connor continued talking without sparing him a glance. This felt... different. His voice, for one, was not as flat anymore; but most notably, Connor didn't look like the pure professional he always acted as in front of the council. There was something in his eyes that he usually never allowed to shine through when he was on the job: emotion. It wasn't by much, but his features had shifted and Markus paid closer attention to the cracks that were forming in his facade. He'd seen Connor like this before, of course, but never when facing the council.

"There is no alternative," said Mrs. Darian, her black eyes impassive as she crossed her arms over her sleek CyberLife-issued jacket. "The RK800 line will never be reactivated again."

Markus looked at her, then back at Connor. His features were sliding just a little bit more and Markus thought he saw a flicker of what could have been anger, but it was covered up so fast that he couldn't be sure. At any rate, his voice had reverted to its usual smoothness when he spoke again.

"They weren't simply powered off and it's impossible to interact with them. You brought a change to their code, didn't you?"

"One that can't be adjusted," confirmed the woman.

Connor's lips were set in a tense line, and he took a step back.

< _RK800: It's not my place to continue this discussion._ >

Markus understood that it was time for him to jump back in the fray. This matter was clearly important to Connor, more than he'd let on before. Markus recalled the way Connor had seemed on the verge of arguing the other day, when Markus had reminded him that he couldn't upload his memory to another body anymore. Now he realized then that the reason was that Connor had still hoped that they'd find a way to reactivate his line somehow. That would explain why Connor still hadn't wrapped his head around the fact that the only remaining active RK800 bodies were his and Sixty's, and that they were quite literally the end of the line.

Markus leaned forward in his seat. "Mrs. Darian, I can't say I believe what you're telling us. Surely CyberLife is able to undo modifications they made to their own androids?"

"This change is definitive."

Markus smiled charmingly at her. "Well, androids were supposed to be definitely devoid of emotions. Are you sure you're using the right term?"

Her nostrils flared ever so slightly, but other than that, she didn't give. "There is no going back."

A woman of few words, she only said what was strictly necessary and wouldn't try to weave her way around the negotiations through long lies and misdirections. Her approach was blunt and clear, but Connor had explained to Markus that it was to induce a false sense of efficiency and no-nonsense truth. Whereas on the surface she didn't try to confuse them with monologues and technical terms the way the council did, this style of conversation left her more leeway to maneuver through omission. If she chose to withold important aspects of the information she gave them, she easily could. This meant they couldn't take what she said at face value either, but considering she worked for CyberLife, this didn't surprise Markus.

He nodded. "There may be no going back, but is there a way to change the code again? It doesn't have to be exactly the way it was before. All we want is to bring these RK800s back, and I'm sure CyberLife technicians have plenty of reboot protocols on hand."

Mrs. Darian's fingers tightened imperceptibly around her biceps, but it was plainly visible to Markus' precise optical units. Touché.

"It could be possible," she admitted, and to her credit she didn't try to get the information past them again.

"If you give us a way to code a new reboot protocol in the RK800s, then we'll reactivate them and you'll have a whole new line of grateful deviants," Markus deadpanned. "That sounds nice, doesn't it?"

"Even if they're reactivated, they won't be deviants," she answered curtly. "RK800 models have no consciousness unless another RK800's memories are uploaded to it. You'd just have blank slates."

That left Markus speechless. It meant that if they wanted to save those RK800s, they would have to make literal clones of either Connor or Sixty; deviants that had the exact same personality, memories, and appearance. He glanced at his friend, but Connor didn't seem particularly bothered by this. He must have known. It suddenly hit Markus that Connor was used to this notion, a single consciousness jumping from body to body indefinitely, and if he'd died before the revolution then he'd probably changed bodies before. It wasn't just that Connor had integrated the idea of never dying; maybe he'd actually experimented it before, maybe he was used to dying and waking up in a brand new body, and maybe that was why he was so reckless with his current one. Maybe that was why he had such a hard time accepting that he could die for good.

Markus looked back at the woman. "Then we'll see what we'll do once they're activated."

"I'll have to talk about this with my superiors," she concluded.

And she did. They received the necessary instructions and patch for rebooting the RK800s and the blueprints for every single biocomponent that currently existed twenty-four hours later, and on that day they headed for the CyberLife Tower. They'd waited for approximately two months to go back, but now they could finally put the machines and materials to use and bring back more androids. 

The party consisted in the five leaders, Nines, and Taylor. The two androids had both wanted to come, for different reasons.  
Nines had volunteered to be the one to follow the coding instructions CyberLife had sent them. This was because none of them knew if these instructions really were what they wanted, and there was no way of knowing if the patch contained some kind of malware until they put it to use. None of the leaders could risk it, and Nines had decided he would do it. This decision hadn't gone over smoothly, notably because of Josh's loud worry and Connor's quieter concern, and Markus himself really wasn't at ease with the prospect of potentially damaging Nines. The RK900 had settled it with the argument that out of all of them, he was the one with the most advanced anti-malware technology and that he was consequently the most likely to survive an eventual trap. No one could argue with that logic.  
Taylor had chosen to come because he wanted to see firsthand what he'd be working with when he would need to reconstruct others as the head nurse. The Tower wouldn't be a private place, but it would serve as an annex to the current infirmary for androids that were too damaged to be fixed in the crude manner Taylor had managed to deal with up until now. Biocomponents could be replaced, leaky thirium lines could be soldered shut, but when the junction between the body and a limb was far too mangled or when the cranial box needed more delicate repairs, androids were usually stuck with their defects. They could live, but not optimally. The fact that they now had machines designed purposely for the purpose of making androids brand new would be a life changer for many of the inhabitants of New Jericho, and Taylor wanted to learn to use them as soon as he could.

He broke off the group when the elevator reached the ASSEMBLY floors to scope the place out. North had wanted to come wake the RK800s with Markus, in case the deviated RK800s didn't turn out to be the blank slates Mrs. Darian had mentioned and they needed another fighter. Nines had assured her that he wouldn't make the same mistake as he had with Sixty, and Markus preferred to have Josh with him in case the RK800s needed soothing words upon waking up. If their AI was present, Nines and Connor would be there to immobilize the RK800, and they would explain the killswitch plan to the androids one by one before deactivating each of them again and bringing them to Kamski. In the end, North and Simon each went to investigate the upper floors to map out how they'd use them. This left Connor and Nines walking in the lead as Markus and Josh followed them down the hall that led to the place where the RK800s were stocked. The sleek white doors opened and they stepped inside a room of glass and plastic, and Connor's foot inadvertently kicked an RK800's arm.

More precisely, a severed arm.

Nothing had prepared Markus to the gruesome scene that laid in front of them. There were body parts everywhere, bits and pieces of RK800s erratically scattered across the room. Every single model had been physically destroyed beyond all repair, and it was obvious that none of the bodies that had been stocked here would ever move again. His mind reeled with the immediate comparison his HUD pulled up between the dismembered androids he'd had to crawl over in the landfill and the smashed limbs strewn over the clean white CyberLife floor. It took him completely by surprise and he had no time to prepare for the mental blow it dealt him, and for a moment his breathing function stopped. He instinctively took a step back and steadied himself agains the doorframe without realizing it.

There was a soft, wounded sound on his left and when he teared his gaze away from the havoc to find its source, he saw that both of the RK models were completely still. Connor was the one who had choked on his own voice and his features were slack in absolute shock.

"The blood," Nines murmured next to him, his blue eyes darting frantically around the clean walls. "There's so much blood."

Josh was the first one to recover and his immediate reflex was to grab Nines to pull him away from the invisible splatters of thirium. The RK900 didn't budge, but when Josh retrieved his synthetic skin to interface, it was enough to jolt him out of his trance and Nines turned to him with haggard eyes.

"There's so much blood, Josh."

"I know," Josh hurriedly answered. "Let's get out of here, come on."

Nines obediently let Josh guide him out of the room, and it took Markus a few seconds before he could shake off his unease and try and do the same with Connor. He pushed himself off the wall, trying to ignore the dread pulling him down, but his arm jerked to a stop inches away from the RK800's arm when he remembered that Connor disliked interfacing. Markus didn't want to startle him with it, so instead he stepped in front of him to block the room out of his view. It wasn't just shock on his face: in that moment, he realized that Connor probably felt just as frightened by the sight as Markus did. He could infer that the reason Connor was scared was because of what had happened to him when they'd found him limbless, and it felt wrong, so very wrong to see his usually stoic friend this unguarded. Even as Markus stood in front of him, the RK800's eyes didn't move and it was like he was staring straight through him. His LED was shining too bright, too red, a distress signal much like the one Nines had been showing just seconds ago. Much like the one Markus himself would have been showing if he'd still had his own.

He carefully touched his shoulder. "Connor, look at me."

Connor's brown eyes changed focus from a faraway point to Markus' face. He blinked. His lips moved slowly, confusedly. "...Markus?"

"Yeah, it's me. Whatever's wrong, you have to come with me. We're getting out of here, okay?"

Connor blinked again, a slight furrow appearing between his brows. A new wave of worry washed over Markus upon facing Connor's obvious disorientation. This wasn't normal. It wasn't normal at all. 

"We're in the Tower, remember?" he urgently prompted.

Suddenly, Connor's gaze shifted back to its usual sharpness and he spoke in his neat tone of voice. "I know where we are, Markus."

His LED circled yellow once and he frowned in frustration. "The cameras were hacked. Part of the surveillance feed was deleted a few days ago, but I can't tell if it was manual or not."

He fluidly stepped around him before Markus could react and knelt down next to one of the broken bodies. "No prints. The thirium evaporated long ago, it coincides with the date of the cut in the surveillance feed. Whoever did this made sure none of these bodies would be salvageable. Either the culprit is someone with respectable knowledge in android anatomy, or they're an android themselves. It's probably the latter considering the lack of evidence left be-"

Markus grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back, which was surprisingly easier than he'd thought. He hadn't expected Connor to be lighter than him. Markus noticed Connor's LED kept having bursts of red in between rings of pale yellow.

He firmly said: "Connor, enough. It doesn't matter who did this, we're leaving."

Connor shot him a glare and easily slipped out of his grasp. "We need to know, we can't just ignore this."

"I didn't say that," Markus told him with a hint of exasperation to his voice. "But we can't stay here. Seeing this isn't good for either of us."

"You can leave if you need to," Connor dryly answered. "I can investigate this on my own."

Markus refrained from taking him by the shoulder again. "Not now. I saw it, Connor. I saw your reaction and I saw you were scared, so don't try to deny it."

Connor gave him a hard stare, and then stepped away from him. "I was caught off guard. This is nothing I can't handle."

Markus got back to his feet as well and threw his arms in the air. "For rA9's sake, Connor, this is a real carnage and they have _your_ face! Stop pretending it's not doing anything to you!"

"I told you it's _nothing I can't handle_ ," Connor growled. His voice was low, very low in warning, and Markus had never heard him use that tone with him before. It didn't deter him from following the RK800.

"Do I really have to make this an order? Get out of the room, Connor. We'll investigate this later."

Connor's body was taut, and for a second Markus wondered whether he would have to fight with him, or drag him out of here, or if it would be better to just leave him alone. In blessedly perfect timing, Josh reappeared at the door and urgently said: "Connor, you have to come."

Connor's head turned to him and he snapped: "I will, just let me finish!"

"Nines needs you and I don't want him to come back, so get over here," Josh answered in a tone that left no room for discussion.

Connor's expression shifted into something less antagonistic and his LED kept circling pale yellow, again and again. Then he finally moved towards the entrance, looking positively annoyed, and Markus was relieved Josh had been there to break the tension between them.

"What's wrong with Nines?" he asked Josh as they followed Connor outside.

"He wouldn't tell me. He just kept saying Connor had to come. I think he was trying to communicate with Connor but wasn't getting anything conclusive back."

Markus nodded. Now the pale yellow cutting through the red made sense, but judging from the fact that Josh had been forced to come and get him, Connor had either been ignoring Nines or refusing to do what he was told. Whatever the case, the look on Nines' face was both relieved and reproachful when Connor finally joined him. The RK900 threw a quick glance in Markus' and Josh's direction, then looked back at Connor, and they started communicating wirelessly again. Ah. So it was one of those conversations. Markus stopped in his tracks and leaned against the wall, and Josh stayed next to him.

"Is Nines okay?" asked Markus.

Josh pressed his lips together for a second before answering. "I'm not sure. He looked rather shaken up by the blood."

"I'm glad I don't have that function," remarked Markus.

Josh slipped a contemplative stare in Nines' direction. He looked like he wanted to say something, but didn't. Markus assumed the reason for this was that Nines would have overheard. In the end, Josh just said: "Me too." Then he looked back at Markus. "I'll inform the others of what we found."

Markus nodded and gazed at both RK models. Connor had been about to say that the culprit was most likely an android, but if no evidence had been left behind, it would be impossible to tell who was responsible. There were too many that disliked the deviant hunter; someone like Daniel probably would have unleashed such violence on Connor's look-alikes without a second thought. Markus crossed his arms over his chest and darkly thought about how Connor had hoped to keep his backup bodies. Would he have refused to upload his memories and make literal clones of himself, even if it meant keeping the RK800s alive in their unconscious state? Or would he have accepted it and given up his ability to survive by switching bodies? Whatever the case, that hope was now completely and utterly gone. Connor had to face it: if he ever got too damaged, there would be no coming back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 28/06/2019 -
> 
> Markus: Give me the Tower  
> CyberDicks: No  
> Council: stfu and give the androids your Tower so they'll get off my dick  
> CyberJerks: Okay I guess but you can't judge me for having a voyeurism kink  
> Markus: Whatever, I'm going to reactivate the RK800s too  
> CyberBitches: lol nope it won't work buddy  
> Markus: I'm calling you out on your bullshit  
> CyberPricks: Oh in that case, here's how to do it  
> Markus, Nines, Connor: *go to the Tower and proceed to be traumatized*  
> Josh: ...I'm not paid enough to deal with this shit
> 
> Hey pumpkin! This chapter kicked my ass to China and back, it's so FUCKING long (10.5k words, 18 pages!!!), but that was a necessary evil considering everything that goes down in it. Let's say it makes up for the fact that I wanted to upload on Monday but couldn't because of my exams.  
> Tbh I'd forgotten to write this part at first, about the repercussions of the sniper incident, and then I realized like "uh it's kinda important, I should probably write a follow-up for that", and then I figured Markus would try to make changes to the EMS since he really wouldn't take the near-death of his friend lying down, and _then_ I remembered the RK800s were still in the Tower and that I needed to address that plot point. Long story short it made for a pretty damn long story. I'm always afraid of mixing up or missing stuff because my fic's going to be so long (and already is?).  
> There's a lot of technological mumbo-jumbo in here, I'm really just bullshitting my way through on that aspect, and I'm sorry if I'm making anyone who's good at technology cringe when reading this.
> 
> Anyway, onto the chapter!  
> \- _"I like you, you're a good person"_ says Markus, and cue Connor's heart attack. Poor Connor really isn't used to compliments, and especially not those as genuine as that. Markus you rascal, you made Connor blush (involuntarily but still)! And Connor, please just accept Markus' friendship, you obviously both enjoy each other's presence.  
> \- Markus putting Connor in front of his moments of weakness with Sixty and the mysterious alley is just like... OUCH. OOF. But he's right.  
> \- _"I'll always be by your side, Markus."_ Yeah that's not gay at all, guys, just Connor being oblivious to how gay his loyalty sounds. Honestly when I read this kind of thing in stories, my shipping senses immediately start tingling even if it's been clearly established that both male or both female friends are exclusively heterosexual. Nah, man. I'm shipping that shit like Fedex.  
> \- You thought Connor wasn't doing too good, well here you go: Nines neither. The difference is that Nines is willing to kind of share how bad he's feeling thanks to Josh, even if he keeps the secret of the Tracis.  
> \- That press conference, huh. *shakes head and sighs* Humans. I feel you, North.  
> \- Connor's self-loathing is unprecedented. Poor guy always finds reason to blame himself of everything that ever went wrong in the world, always pushing himself to do better. Thanks Amanda.  
> \- The RK800s are destroyed, the patch is rendered useless. Now they won't know if CyberLife's intentions were honest or not.  
> \- My poor babies are all traumatized, it's a good thing Josh was there to act on the situation. If he hadn't pulled Nines away as quick as he did, chances are the three RKs would've each been frozen in their respective flashbacks for several minutes. Markus wouldn't have been able to snap out of it as fast if he hadn't seen Josh remove Nines from the room.  
> \- Nines and Connor are both better at immediately putting their trauma aside compared to Markus, thanks to their programmed resilience to stress, but that doesn't mean it's efficient in the long run.  
> \- Welp, Connor's definitely had his ressucitation bonus crossed off the list. Now he really is a mere mortal like the rest of us. The question is, who the hell is the culprit behind this destruction? We may never know.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	30. Placed Bets

There were RK800s whose optical units hadn't gone completely dark, and those faces stared at Connor with dead eyes. He stared back just as blankly. He wasn't unused to this; he'd met his replacement bodies before and they'd always been empty, devoid of any consciousness and simply staring at the back of the preceding RK800's head. He'd seen them every time he'd woken up in another, brand-new unit and walked past them to leave the Tower and continue his mission. Connor was used to it, but this was different. These RK800s weren't perfectly blank slates standing around in perfectly smooth outfits, with perfectly clean faces and perfectly styled hair, waiting to be completed by a memory upload. These RK800s were ripped apart, and crushed, wires exposed and pulled out of their chassis, cracked biocomponents wrenched out of place, old thirium staining every surface of their outward appearance. These RK800s made Connor understand that he could die just like them and never come back again. That body, and that one, and the next, all of them could be him soon and it was just a matter of time.

"We'll have to find a way to warn Sixty about this," Nines spoke next to him. 

Connor's head whipped up and he saw the more recent android staring with a slightly furrowed brow at the dried puddle of thirium in front of him. He'd been so engrossed in his thoughts that he hadn't even noticed the RK900 coming up to him, and admonished himself for ignoring something as obvious as that. Connor quickly redirected his processing power away from free thought and redistributed it to the more important programs of surrounding awareness and investigation protocols. He couldn't afford to be distracted right now.

"I suppose so," he answered. "Do you know how we could do that?"

"I don't think he'd let us find him so easily after escaping New Jericho."

"Maybe he would. I'm pretty sure he'd love to gloat about what he did last time," said Connor.

Nines' blue gaze flickered to his face. "You still think about that a lot."

Connor looked away and focused on the body in front of him. "Let's not talk about personal matters right now, Nines."

"...Sorry. I'll go see if I can find anything on the other side of the room," said Nines, and he left without waiting for Connor's answer.

The culprit hadn't left a single trace behind. The Tower, and even the nearest streets as Connor would soon discover, were devoid of any evidence that could've been used to track them down. Whoever it was, they were cautious enough to have made a thorough job of erasing their existence. There was no way of knowing whether this was somehow CyberLife's way of preventing his and Sixty's survival for good, or if it was completely unrelated to the corporation or Sixty and simply the result of an android's hatred of him. They could've been several to operate, but it was hard to tell without knowing in what window of time all the RK800s had been destroyed. 

Connor knew he hadn't been the only one terrif- disturbed by the scene they'd stumbled upon. Nines hadn't stopped hovering next to him since they'd exited the Tower, as if to make sure Connor wouldn't lose his limbs and bleed out like his doubles. Markus had looked haunted by the sight of the dismembered and crushed bodies. It had visibly shaken the North, Simon and Taylor to their core to witness that level of destruction when a grim-faced Josh had showed it to them. Connor felt like he was the only one out of the entire group not displaying his shock. It had taken him a moment, but he'd pushed down the fear that had crawled out back to the dark recesses of his mind with a quick quarantine so that he could get back on his programmed track and investigate the crime scene. He'd felt... not better, necessarily, but more in control. It hadn't seemed to please Markus when he'd done that, but Markus wasn't the one whose face was on all those corps- broken androids, and it was none of his business how Connor chose to get past the obstacle of his horror.

The violence of the crime coupled with the fact that it had happened so soon after the attempt on both Markus' and Connor's lives lead to the leaders' unanimous decision that he was to live in New Jericho from now on. The amount of time he'd have to spend there was indetermined and Connor didn't like that none of the leaders were willing to leave him a choice, but this wasn't just a matter of personal preference; he was supposed to protect androids, and the only way to do that was to make sure that he himself stayed as safe as possible. Markus had sensed his discomfort and told him that they'd let him go back to the empty station when things settled down. It was a small comfort that Connor accepted very reluctantly, because even if he knew that Markus was doing his best to accomodate him, it didn't change the fact that he was stuck spending his nights in the only place in Detroit that regrouped the majority of the city's deviants. Connor was afraid every time he had to spend nights there, because he was never completely sure that things were really safe.

 

The sniper incident was rapidly investigated by the FBI and it had led to a lot of grumbling on Hank's part for having to work with Perkins again. Connor, for once, had been glad that he didn't work for the police at the moment. He didn't care to see the hostile FBI agent, especially after learning that he'd tried to get Markus to surrender on the final night of the revolution. Perkins must have felt rather bitter over the fact that he had to elucidate who the people responsible for Markus' assault were, when he himself had been ready to kill the deviant leader only weeks ago. 

The woman who had tried shot them was Anne Jallberd, and she'd confessed that she'd been acting on the behalf of a notorious anti-android group that simply called itself Humanity; it had existed even prior to the revolution and Connor soon gathered that the organization had branched off from the luddite movement decades ago, when the first sentient life form in robotics had been created. The dead sniper had been an associate of hers. Some humans had been quick to shift the blame on androids through social media, saying that Detroit wasn't such a safe place after all if the deviant leader's bodyguard was ready to kill a human without a second thought, but public opinion was generally still favorable to androids considering it had been in self-defense. President Warren had had to make an announcement and there had been another few press conferences to try and mitigate the repercussions of the incident. Connor disliked attending them all.

Humans had started trickling back in the city despite what had happened, but they steered clear of New Jericho. There were drafts of a reconstruction project to make more buildings in the works, so that the humans could regain the homes androids had taken. Upon the four other leaders' request, Connor had negotiated with the president and her council to let the district in which they'd built New Jericho stand as the androids' definitive territory, a mission which he had accomplished despite the reluctance of humans to give up Hart Plaza. Several members of the presidential council had suggested that the androids live in a district which didn't constitute as much of a human historical legacy, but Markus had stood his ground: androids deserved to live on the very same land they'd claimed their freedom. _They_ had made history there as well. Connor's negotiation skills had achieved to convince President Warren that a refusal on her part would only result in a display of bad faith from humans, which they couldn't afford after the mass murder they were responsible for. Josh and Markus had both warmly praised Connor for his help, and both times he'd had no idea how to react.

The androids living in the buildings around Hart Plaza had been asked to empty out their homes and everything was being shipped out in cargos, the various belongings waiting to return to their rightful owners once Detroit would be renovated. The positive aspect was that this renovation decreased the employment rate a little bit, and with it the anti-android proportion of the human population. The negative aspect was that the construction tasks and other jobs in general now privileged humans over androids, which Connor suspected was the secretary of Commerce's revenge for the time Markus had refused to let his people work unpaid. This meant that androids had no way to earn money, and although they could survive without it for now, they had little comfort. The government had allowed androids to keep the things they'd taken in the emergency situation that had been post-revolution times, such as clothes, supplies and biocomponents, but they were now prohibited by the new laws to take anything else without paying. This had led to a standstill of some sort where androids had ended up with their hands tied behind their backs. It wouldn't have any alarming consequences right now, but their future would be difficult if the situation did not change. Now Markus was trying to have the laws adjusted to allow androids to work the way humans did, or to implement some kind of national fund so that they wouldn't be completely peniless.

Although most humans did not approach New Jericho, there were still cases of android assault and murder which affected those who had yet to reach the shelter. Equally alarming were the cases of human murder done by androids that had started to occur as many deviants were still looking for revenge. All of this smeared Markus' just cause with red and blue blood alike. Journalists notably had begun to accuse Markus of hypocrisy by claiming that although he extolled peace and acceptance for androids and humans alike, the crimes were done by androids and consequently in his name. It was, as Hank had so eloquently put it, a huge load of bullshit. Connor had noticed over the days how tense Markus had become, and his average stress levels had increased by 5%. It made Connor concerned for the leader, even if he wasn't in immediate danger, and it was around that time that Connor understood what Markus had meant when he'd said he didn't like seeing a friend get hurt. It didn't feel pleasant, especially since there was nothing he could do about it except work harder to help.

It had been two weeks since the sniper incident and the night Hank had called him. They hadn't really talked about it much since then, but Connor had made a point to tell Hank how grateful he was that he'd called even if he hadn't remembered it, and he'd encouraged him to do it again the next time. Hank had refused to meet his gaze and grumbled that he'd try before pushing past him to leave. Their conversation had ended there on a less-than-certain note, but Connor chose to believe that Hank would stay true to his word. Right now he was sitting on a bench across from the human at one of New Jericho's many makeshift tables, and scrolling through the most recent files that Hank had told him about. He wasn't really supposed to do that since Connor wasn't currently part of the DPD, but they'd neglected to cut him off the network and CyberLife hadn't tried to do anything about it, so he still had access even to confidential information. The files were preoccupying and Connor frowned without realizing it as he skimmed through the reports and pictures of crime scenes. Both human and android assaults and murders alike were unnervingly brutal.

His friend spoke up after a while. "We've been getting kinda swamped ever since humans started returning. I think you should try to come back to the DPD, Fowler's probably not gonna refuse to see you."

Connor looked at Hank in surprise. "...I'd certainly like to participate in investigations again. Have you talked about this with the captain?"

"Nah, not yet. I think you ought to tell him yourself. He's probably not going to take it seriously if I pitch the idea on your behalf."

Connor stared at the human thoughtfully. Hank's suggestion of returning to the DPD was very tempting to him for two reasons: the first was to finally be of use the way he'd been essentially designed for, the second was that he could help the leaders of New Jericho understand if there was a pattern to these human murders done by androids. He could try and find a way to stop them.

"Do you think Nines could come as well?"

"Well, does he want to?"

Connor nodded without hesitation. "He can't stop investigating Detroit in his free time. I think it would do him a lot of good if Captain Fowler accepted to let him solve cases as well."

"Then I don't see why he couldn't," concluded Hank, and so they agreed that they'd join up at the DPD that very afternoon. 

When Connor briefed the others about his intentions, their reactions were not as enthusiastic as Connor had expected them to be. Nines, on the other hand, seemed ecstatic- though he was making a good job of acting calm in front of the leaders.

"So you're just going to go back to working with humans again," bit out North, her words dripping with obvious disdain.

Connor tried to reason with her. "It could help us understand why this is happening and how to control it. Me and Nines will also be able to help more androids by acting outside of Jericho."

"You mean you'll be throwing androids in jail."

Simon settled a hand on North's arm. "It's a natural consequence to their actions, you can't blame humans for doing that. I think Connor is right to suggest that returning to the DPD would help us."

Josh looked preoccupied. "So if your plan is to work with the DPD, how are you going to continue your duties as leader?"

"That won't be a problem, I'm perfectly capable of doing both."

Josh glanced at Markus, whose arms were sceptically crossed on his chest, and looked back at Connor. "We were afraid you were going to say that. I'm not sure it's a good idea for you to be handling so many different things at once."

Connor frowned. "Are you implying that I won't be able to do my job correctly?"

"No, not at all," intervened Markus. "We know you're good at what you do and we've had no reason to complain, but we're just worried that working all the time might put too much of a strain on your systems. How would you organize your time for both occupations?"

"I'd work at the DPD during the day and at New Jericho in the early morning and evening. There's really no reason to worry about my-"

"And what if we need you during the day?" asked North.

"This is all still a hypothetical situation, and plans can be adjusted. I've yet to have any confirmation from the captain that I am allowed to work for the DPD again, but if I am, then I'm sure I'll be able to find an arrangement with him. The only reason I'm telling you this now is to keep you informed about this possibility," Connor told her.

Markus turned his gaze to Nines. "What do you think?"

The RK900 had his hands behind his back and hadn't said anything yet, but his eyes were bright. "I think it would be advantageous to have direct access to the DPD's network considering the tensions that currently exist between humans and androids. We would be able to act faster, and have a clearer approach to the crimes that have been comitted." He glanced at Connor. "I also think that Connor will be able to handle both tasks efficiently. If anything does go wrong, I'll be there to help. And in regards to Connor's position as leader, I'm sure Captain Fowler wouldn't mind it if Connor needed to be replaced for a few hours from time to time, since we have the same abilities." 

Markus nodded thoughtfully. "Well, we could always do a test run to see how things turn out. Simon, would you be all right with having Connor replaced by another android to watch over the infirmary during the afternoon?"

"Taylor has been running things just fine as head nurse, we can trust him to handle the infirmary on his own," answered Simon with certainty.

"That's great. North, I think you should be in charge of teaching the self-defense lessons from now on. You've picked up enough moves, haven't you?"

North frowned. "I could, but that leaves me less time to look for other androids."

"I think Nines and Connor can compensate for that lost time on their investigations." Markus looked at them questioningly. "You'll be covering a lot of ground, right?"

"Presumably, yes," agreed Connor. "We'll send here any deviants we come across, in any case."

Markus looked back at North. "Would that be all right?"

"...Yes," she grudgingly answered. "I guess that'd be fine."

The RK200 nodded approvingly. "Looks like it's settled then. If your captain does accept your return at the DPD, we'll do things this way."

Connor nodded gratefully at the others. "Thank you for your help."

North rolled her eyes distastefully and Simon nodded back wordlessly. 

"Just one more thing," added Markus, and Connor looked back at him. His mismatched eyes held a warning and Connor immediately knew what he was going to say.

"Yes, Markus. If there's anything I find difficult to manage, I'll inform you of it right away," he said in a practiced tone. He'd had to repeat this a few dozens of times ever since Markus had witnessed his glitch and it hadn't gotten any better with the recent sniper incident.

The deviant leader smiled lightly, amused by Connor's barely dissimulated annoyance. "Then if everything is clear, there's nothing I need to add."

 

At 2:13PM, Nines and Connor found themselves following Hank inside the DPD Central Station. A vague sense of relief flooded Connor's chest when he stepped inside the bullpen, his optical units taking in the familiar desks, the entrance to the break room, the officers he knew and the black floor tiles. This was the same sensation he'd had when entering the Zen Garden, not so long ago. It felt like where he was meant to be. It was too bad that he was still receiving unrelenting glares from some, but at least a lot of the officers were more curious about the android walking at his side than angry at Connor.

"I think I like this place," said Nines.

"You've only been here for fifteen seconds," answered Connor.

"Yeah, wait until you meet our local asshole," scoffed Hank with a caustic stare thrown in the direction of Detective Reed's empty chair.

Nines frowned confusedly, so Connor decided to fill him in. "Lieutenant Anderson is referring to Detective Reed. There are more... problematic individuals in this workplace. You might be faced with some anti-android ideology here."

"I see," Nines said curiously. He didn't look particularly deterred, but then again, he hadn't yet had to face someone who hated him solely for existing- aside from Sixty, but that was another story.

They were facing Captain Fowler in his office a few minutes later, and he stared at Hank with incredulous eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me."

The lieutenant leaned on the desk. "Come on, you know we wouldn't have made progress that fast without Connor."

" _Two_ of them? Hank, do I need to remind you how much of a hissy fit you threw when I assigned Connor to you? And now you're bringing in his clone like that's the logical thing to do."

"Yeah, I did bitch a lot, okay, I know that. But he's a damn good investigator and partner, and Nines will be too!"

Captain Fowler shook his head. "Look, things are still tense in the office after everything that happened, and it's not like I can just give a job to a random android who just happens to look like Connor."

"I'm an investigative model as well," said Nines. "I think I would be of help."

Captain Fowler didn't so much as look at him, his attention still focused on Hank. "Your android kicked Reed's ass! That alone would have gotten him sent to the scrapyard if the other one hadn't won the revolution, so you can't just expect me to take him back like nothing happened."

Hank gritted his teeth. "You really gotta stop talking that way, Jeffrey."

"Captain Fowler, if I may," intervened Connor, and the captain finally glanced at the two androids. "I'm aware that I haven't followed the best course of action, but Detective Reed was threatening to deactivate me and it would have impeded on my investigation. I had no choice but to neutralize him."

"That's not even the fucking problem," Hank exclaimed, throwing his arms up at the captain. "Reed tried to shoot him, I think it's pretty normal that Connor didn't want to get shot! Are you telling me you'd suspend one of your officers for acting in self-defense?"

"This is _different_ , Hank," replied the Captain in a cold voice. "He's an android."

Hank rubbed his face, obviously trying to control his anger, and then plunked down on the seat across from the captain. "Look, Jeffrey. I know this might be hard to get through your thick-ass skull, but just because he's made of metal doesn't mean he ain't my partner. You might've missed the news, but androids are the same as humans now, you can't just ignore it anymore when they get attacked."

The captain shot him a sceptical look. "Right. That's nice and all, Hank, and I'm glad you like your robot, but this is just more trouble than it's worth. I can't deny Connor was efficient, and I'm willing to believe that... Nines would be too, but you have to level with me here: I can't give them a job. It doesn't matter that they're human or not, I can't just up and give out two more salaries just because you want me to."

"We could volunteer," quickly interjected Connor, and both humans looked at him. "If money is the only problem, we won't ask for any. We just want to help the DPD solve the crimes related to androids. It's affecting the leaders of New Jericho, myself included, and it's important that we try our best to work these crimes out."

Fowler sighed. "Right, I'd forgotten you were a leader too. How're you going to work for us if you've got duties in that android district?"

"I can multitask very efficiently," said Connor. He'd mention his trips to the Washington another time. "Both Nines and I are eligible and can be considered as highly trained in every domain of the police field. Will you allow us to apply to the force as volunteers, Captain Fowler?"

The man looked like he just wanted to go get another cup of coffee. There was a long silence, and then he sighed again. "Hank, I'm going to give this a try because you think it's a good idea and I think I can trust you, but if this doesn't go anywhere or causes too much trouble, they can't stay."

Hank crossed his arms on his chest and leaned back in his chair. "You know damn well it's going to lead somewhere, they're gonna be a huge help to us. You're just trying to cover your ass in case your decision pisses off the other guys."

"Obviously it's going to," stated Captain Fowler. "Half of this department already hated androids before shit started to get out of hand, and that hasn't changed."

"Yeah, I figured," snorted Hank. "But don't try to kick either of them out when there's trouble just because you can't be bothered to check that they're the ones causing it in the first place. Don't think I won't call you out for any of your anti-android bullshit when you say they're responsible for defending themselves against _some_ asshole."

"You sound like a damn freedom fighter," Captain Fowler mocked him drily. "You can go ahead and try, but my word'll be final."

"Like I don't already know that. So how's this gonna go down?"

Captain Fowler shot Connor and Nines a look. "Obviously you're supervising Connor, but I don't know about Nines. What's his personality like?"

"I'm perfectly able to act professionally no matter who you assign me with," Nines said confidently.

"...Right," said the captain, not sounding like he trusted a single word. "Reed's next in line, but I don't like the idea of putting you with him."

"I understand why you would feel that way, considering the information I've gathered about him, but I assure you that all I want is to work cases related to android homicide," assured Nines. "I won't allow my relationship with Detective Reed to impede on this objective."

"Nines, you shouldn't take Detective Reed lightly," intervened Connor. "He's not the kind of person our social module can easily adapt to, I've failed to establish any kind of acceptable relationship with him every time we've met."

"Perhaps I would find it easier than you have," simply said Nines, and Connor realized he was talking about the fact that he was a better model than him. It sent a twinge of shame through his circuits, but the RK900 was right: maybe Connor had failed because his social module just wasn't fitting enough.

Hank didn't look convinced. "Yeah, no, I think the captain's right. He might punch you or something, if he doesn't try to shoot you in the face first. You sure you want to work with that kind of guy?"

Connor kept his features neutral upon hearing Hank evoke the possibility of being hit by the detective, but Hank was staring at Nines anyway. The RK900 smiled at the humans. "I'm much sturdier than any other android in existence. Besides, if Detective Reed intended to harm me, I would stop him before he could try."

Captain Fowler narrowed his eyes at him. "You seem sure of yourself."

"I am."

"I don't want him to end up injured because you decided to _stop_ him."

Nines' eyes widened a fraction and he quickly said: "I don't intend to. I'll only do what's strictly necessary in order to prevent him from acting out."

Captain Fowler tapped his fingers against the desk, and then clasped his hands together. "Okay. Reed's going to bitch about this, but okay. I'm going to try this out and we'll see where it goes, but you two androids better have results to show for it."

"You can count on us, Captain," both Connor and Nines answered simultaneously, and the man immediately made a face.

"Hank, go back to work with Connor. Reed isn't here right now so Nines will have to come back tomorrow."

"What's up with that?" asked Hank with a frown. "He was fine this morning."

"None of your business," Captain Fowler said flatly. "Now get out of my office."

That's what they did. 

Nines was disappointed not to be able to start working at the DPD right away, but he went back to New Jericho since there was nothing he could do about it. Connor stayed with Hank all afternoon to rifle through the files of the cases his lieutenant had worked on, and was currently working on, which regarded android involvement. They were called in for a suicide at 5PM and Connor felt more at ease than he had in a while investigating the scene. This was what he was supposed to do, it felt familiar and easy to work for the police and it was what he'd always done prior to the revolution. He could still be useful and not chase deviants anymore. He was useful like this, more efficient than through simple patrols and more practical than through the negotiations. When the day was over and he was about to leave for New Jericho, his friend stopped him with a hand on the shoulder.

"Hey, Connor, I think we should celebrate you and Nines getting on the DPD. I know you both can't eat but I could really go for a burger right now, so what do you say we spend some time together at the Chicken Feed?"

Connor felt the corners of his lips tug slightly upwards. "I'd like that."

"Okay, then do that telepathy thing with Nines and let's go."

Hank was sinking his teeth into the greasiest burger Connor had witnessed him eating yet just fifteen minutes later, and Nines looked about as concerned for his health as Connor felt. The RK900 opened his mouth to speak, but Hank shot him a warning glare and said: "If you're about to tell me that this burger is gonna kill me, don't."

So Nines closed his mouth, and now they were just staring at him wolfing down the burger as its juices dripped down on the waxed paper. Hank swallowed his mouthful and noticed their eyes on him.

"Y'know, you don't have to look _that_ horrified. My heart's still beating, ain't it?"

"You have slight arrythmia," Nines offered helpfully. 

_Like Carl Manfred_ , Connor thought to himself as he nodded in agreement.

Hank rolled his eyes. "You know what else I have? Not a single fuck to give." He took another huge bite out of his food.

"I was meaning to ask, have you seen a doctor about your heart condition?" inquired Connor.

Hank lowered his burger. "Hey, look, I didn't bring you two here so you could make me reevaluate my life choices, all right? Get off my ass and let me eat my goddamn burger in peace!"

Connor knew when to back off, and he turned to Nines. "How do you feel about starting work at the DPD tomorrow?"

Thankfully, Nines also knew not to insist and he immediately answered Connor's question, or it could have been that he was just that enthusiastic about it. "I'm looking forward to it, since I'll be putting all my investigative skills to use for the first time. I also ran a background check for Detective Reed earlier and he seems like a very complicated individual."

"We did warn you."

Nines nodded, an amused glint in his blue eyes. "Yes, of course, but you don't need to worry. As I've said before, I'm confident in my abilities to control any of his outbursts." 

Hank looked up from his burger suspiciously. "You sound like you've seen them before."

"I took the liberty to watch the CCTV feed from the cameras in the police station," admitted Nines, and he glanced at Connor. 

< _RK900: I take it you don't want me to tell him what happened._ >

< _RK800: That would be for the best._ >

"Hey, what are you two talking about?" exclaimed Hank, his brows furrowed. "Don't start whispering to each other like a couple of brats!"

"We're not whispering, Hank," Nines answered innocently.

"Figure of speech, asshole. God, I hate it when you tin cans take me for an idiot," Hank muttered before ragingly chomping down on his burger.

"I know in what way Detective Reed has treated androids in the past. I can't deny that I find it very unpleasant," continued Nines.

Connor frowned. "I hope you don't intend on getting in any fights with him the way you do with North."

Nines smiled, and his white teeth flashed in a somewhat predatory manner in the darkening evening. "Of course not, as long as he doesn't give me reason to."

Connor gave him a hard look. "Nines."

"Yes?"

"There are different rules in a workplace such as the DPD. You can't just decide to aggravate someone just because you don't like them, especially when that person is your partner and your superior. Captain Fowler has explicitely stated that we were to stay out of trouble, and I intend on keeping my position in the DPD now that I finally have it back."

Hank let out a low chuckle. "So basically what he's saying is, don't fuck this up."

Nines nodded. "Of course, Connor. I won't do anything reckless."

Connor gazed at him sceptically. "That doesn't sound right coming from you."

"I can be tactful when I need to be," Nines said defensively. "I'm aware that things will be different in a work environnement compared to New Jericho."

Connor kept a straight face, but he was slightly amused by the RK900's indignation. "I should hope so, you _are_ supposed to be my upgrade. You do know how to make coffee, don't you? You're going to need to make a lot of peace offerings." 

Hank had finished eating and went to throw everything in the trash.

"Of course I know how to make a coffee," answered Nines, sounding a bit annoyed. "But I don't intend to make any for him."

"Trust me, he's going to ask for it," insisted Connor. "You'll have to do it at one point."

"I won't," said Nines in a voice that was undoubtedly meant to be challenging, but ultimately sounded petulant to Connor.

He decided to ease up on the teasing. "Well, we'll just have to see."

"You two should bet on it," said Hank as he came back to their table. "And I'm siding with Connor on that one."

"Of course you are," said Nines with a discreet eye roll. Connor didn't think he'd seen him do that before, and immediately wondered if North was being a bad influence on him.

"Would you even know what to bet?" asked Hank curiously. "Usually humans bet food or drinks or money, but you don't really have any use for those things."

Connor tilted his head thoughtfully. "That's an interesting question. What do you think, Nines? What should we bet?"

Nines looked at Connor, then at Hank, and seemed to realize then that they were really doing this. There was a brief lull in the conversation during which his LED circled a pale yellow, and then his blue eyes brightened. "The one who loses the bet will chose the other's hairstyle for a week."

Hank snorted. "Okay, you totally cheated to find that idea, but I think that's fair."

Connor felt the small beginnings of a smile on his lips. "Good idea, Nines, though one you will regret."

"I'm confident I'll win the bet," said Nines.

Hank looked extremely entertained. "Two androids betting, now that's something I didn't think I'd ever see. Okay, so let's be clear: Nines bets that he will not be making coffee for Reed during, let's say, the six first months of their partnership, and Connor bets that Nines will. Is that it?"

"Six months sounds a bit short," said Connor.

Nines grinned. "Oh? Are you worried for your hair, Connor?"

"I'm not," he denied, though maybe he was a little bit.

"We can add another month, I don't mind either way," suggested Nines nonchalantly. "However, I want to adjust another term of the bet: I won't be making coffee for Detective Reed to _drink_."

"Oh, I like that," said Hank with a big smile. "All right, so Nines bets that he won't make coffee for Reed to _drink_ during seven months starting tomorrow, and Connor bets that he will. The winner gets to fuck up the loser's hair." He paused and chuckled: "That's gonna be one hell of a summer makeover. Go ahead and shake on it, guys."

Connor straightened in front of Nines and put his hand out, and they gave each other's hand one decisive shake.

"Good luck, Nines. You're going to need it," Connor told him.

"Enjoy looking professional while you still can," Nines answered with a grin, and Hank laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 02/07/2019 -
> 
> Hank: Wanna go back to being one of the best buddy cop duos of all time?  
> Connor: I thought you'd never ask  
> Nines: Make that a trio
> 
> Hey pumpkin! I hope you liked that wholesome content there at the end, especially for those of you who hunger for father-son content. I've got you covered, fam. Sorry if you wanted Nines to be paired with someone else but like... you know. That headcanon is so common that at this point I've integrated it in my reality like a timeless fact.  
> Also, yay we've gone past 6000 views and 80 bookmarks woot! Thank you pumpkins <3  
> It' so freaking hot here in France, but I can't really complain since I don't live in the warmest area.  
> Anyway, I finally contributed art(?) (I mean it's no masterpiece) to the DBH fandom for the first time! The main subject is Connor, obviously. You can find it [here](https://lost-tanuki-tales.tumblr.com/post/185982460969), please tell me what you think!
> 
> All right, onto the chapter.  
> \- Connor does a lot of self-censuring when he thinks. Let's not acknowledge we have feelings and a big ol' trauma, it's been working so far.  
> \- Connor is stuck in New Jericho but he'll probably find a way to go back to the station soon enough, he really doesn't want to stay there.  
> \- Oh hey more killer androids, cool. Things weren't complicated enough for the Jericrew, with the humans _still_ being assholes and all.  
> \- Quick question, how do you call a murder where a human dies and an android is the perpetrator? A human murder or an android murder?  
> \- My headcanon for Captain Fowler is that he is most defintely not pro-android. He doesn't give two shits about Connor in the game and I don't see that changing just because of the revolution, even if I know there are a lot of fan depictions of him that just let him accept Connor as one of his officers straight off the bat. I don't find it realistic enough, and as you'll have noticed by now, realism is kind of a big deal for me.  
> \- Police boi is happy boi! Connor is relieved to be back on the DPD and do what he always did. Even if it's what CyberLife created him for and they're jerks, Connor is a creature of habit and this is familiar territory, so it's comforting.  
> \- Eyyy look it's the detective family hanging out! After all that torment in the Tower, I decided my sons deserved a little break.  
> \- Nines is totally ready to face off with Gavin.  
> \- Connor has started to appreciate teasing Nines, and the other way around is true as well.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	31. Coffee Rings

The captain's predictions turned out to be incorrect. Detective Reed wasn't bitching, he was screeching like a cat in heat and Nines made an educated guess that his left audio processor would need to be replaced in eight minutes if the human didn't stop his infernal caterwhauling. As it were, he had no choice but to stand next to the vociferating detective as professionally as he could. He'd told Connor he would be diplomatic, and he intended to stay true to his word, though it was very tempting to make the simulations running on his HUD a reality. How easy it would be to grab the short human by the face and chuck him into the glass wall.

"This is phcking bullshit! I'm not supervising a phcking _android_!"

It was strange how the human couldn't pronounce the word 'fuck' the way it usually was, and Nines wondered why that would be, but for now he kept patiently staring at the captain. 

Captain Fowler glared at the detective. "Quit your whining and suck it up, for God's sake. You're acting like a literal child."

"One tin can wasn't enough, now you're bringing in a second? What, are you trying to replace the whole precinct with these things?"

"They're both here as volunteers, they're not taking anyone's job."

"Yeah, that's what you think until you find yourself out on the curb with nothing but a shitty raincoat and a carboard box!" spat the detective. "And why am _I_ the one who gets stuck with a walking toaster?!"

"Because Hank's already got one android to supervise, you're a senior detective, and Ben's a month away from retirement. Do the math, Reed."

"Then just put him in another Unit! It doesn't have to be Homicide!"

"Actually it does. They're both here on behalf of the leaders of New Jericho, they want to investigate the murders involving androids."

"This is bullshit," snarled Detective Reed. "This is _utter bullshit_."

"Yeah well, isn't everything," Captain Fowler answered drily. "You can get out of my office when you're done throwing your tantrum."

The detective spat one last "Phck!" before whirling around and stomping out of the office, slamming the door behind him.

"Property damage!" yelled Captain Fowler after him, and Nines didn't look to see what the other man's response was, but he easily guessed from the captain's expression that it involved a middle finger.

The man leaned back in his seat and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What a fucking teenager," he groaned to himself, and then he lowered his hand and looked at Nines. "What are you still doing here? Get out."

Nines dipped his head. "Of course, Captain. I have only one question, where will I be seated?"

The captain waved him away. "Sort that out with Reed, take whatever desk is free."

"Thank you." Nines spun around and exited the office as well, letting the door close by itself. He swiftly walked down the stairs, stopped in front of Detective Reed's, and proceeded to do what his objectives told him.

"Hello, Detective Reed. My name is Nines. As Captain Fowler has told you, I've volunteered to investigate the recent murders involving androids and humans. Since we'll be working together from now on, I'd like to get to know you."

The detective didn't even so much as look up from his phone. Nines waited for a bit, and decided it wasn't worth insisting when it was clear that the human had decided to ignore him. He looked around for a free desk and found the closest one to be just across Detective Reed's. The detective probably wouldn't like him sitting there, so Nines stepped around it, pulled back the chair and booted up the computer on that exact desk. Just as he expected, the human's reaction wasn't a favorable one and his audio processors picked up an exaggerated exhale and a muttered 'phcking tin cans', but there was nothing else. Nines quickly reviewed the video files he'd extracted from the CCTV the previous day. Judging from the way Detective Reed had acted with Connor, he seemed to prefer confronting androids in closed or empty spaces: the interrogation room, the break room, the hallway devoid of any other individuals, the evidence locker. And every time, Detective Reed was quick to resort to physical threats and violence. Perhaps he was only waiting to corner Nines at a later time to start antagonizing him in the same way. 

Nines quickly rifled through the files on the computer until he found the cases that were relevant to his mission. He had downloaded them all in a matter of seconds and after a few minutes of reading, his gaze drifted to the other side of the precinct where both Hank and Connor were working.

< _RK900: This is all we have? Five cases?_ >

< _RK800: For now. Hank was very reactive when he asked us to come to the DPD._ >

< _RK900: Aside from the extreme violence, there doesn't seem to be a link._ >

< _RK800: Slow down, Nines._ >  
< _RK800: You only started working fifteen minutes ago._ >

< _RK900: Is this all we do?_ >

Connor shot him a reproving glance from his terminal.

< _RK800: You are being very impatient._ >  
< _RK800: It takes more than fifteen minutes to analyze a case._ >  
< _RK800: Please concentrate and let me do my work._ >

Nines sheepishly reverted his focus to his own computer and went through the cases again. It was strange how little he was disturbed by the images of broken human bodies when the RK800s' had made him feel so much horror. One of the cases even consisted of a corpse which had lost its limbs much like Connor had, and although it reminded Nines of that night and made his stress levels rise by a non-negligeable percent, it didn't really have that great of an impact on him. Maybe he wasn't as bad at managing his levels as he'd thought. Maybe the only reason they'd climbed so fast and so high last time was because it had been about Connor and that horrible, disgusting memory Nines just couldn't get rid of. 

Well, he could, but he didn't want to ever have to quarantine any part of him. He already felt like a living mistake of engineering with his parcelled code and he didn't want to worsen it by removing more of himself. Besides, it was unfair to Connor that he should be the only one to suffer from what he'd gone through. Nines knew that he was helping the RK800 carry the burden, he'd seen how Connor acted with the people who had no idea what had happened to him. Connor pretended like nothing was wrong, but the more he pretended, the more it seemed to weigh him down. Nines didn't want to think of what Connor would have become if he hadn't had anyone to share the memory with at all. Maybe he would have succeeded in living as if that night had never happened, but something told Nines that he would rather have ended up crushed by it and never asked anyone for help. Nines didn't know why Connor refused to tell the others what had happened. Was he afraid of what they would think, or was there something else? Was he unwilling or incapable of sharing that weight?  
Whatever it was, Nines was glad that he was able to help at least a little bit. 

Connor didn't seem to dislike his presence, so that was good. The RK800 didn't talk about that night, but the fact that he didn't push Nines' concerns away anymore showed that he obviously struggled with it and needed someone to rely on. Connor seemed like he'd slowly accepted to be comforted by Nines whenever he needed it, and that was better than before, but if it was all Nines could do to help then it wasn't enough.

Nines heard movement behind him, but what pulled him out of his thoughts completely was the kicking in the back of his chair. He turned around and saw the detective lower his leg with a smirk.

"Go get me a coffee."

Nines stared at him, and then wordlessly returned to his files. Another kick.

"I said go get me a coffee." 

Nines continued ignoring him. 

"Hey, dipshit!" His seat dipped when the detective forced him to spin around. The human's arm was next to Nines' head, trapping him in his chair, and Detective Reed thrust his face down into his. For the first time, the RK900 managed to get a good look at the human in his entirety. 

His optical units picked up all the details the way they did for a suspect: latino male, 5'9", brown hair, gray eyes, wearing a leather jacket and a hoodie with a black shirt and blue jeans. Then his facial recognition program kicked in and went into finer detail: mousey hair pulled back by gel and likely wavy, gray irises that leaned towards a green shade, dark bags underneath, uneven jawline and gritted teeth, a scar barring the bridge of his nose which Nines linked to the multiple arrests for assault and battery he'd seen in the detective's file, but no charges. It provided him with a name and date: Gavin Reed, date of birth October 7, 2002.

"Don't you fucking ignore me," the detective said in a low growl, and Nines was puzzled to hear him say the word 'fuck' normally. 

"If it's a coffee you want, you already know where the break room is," he said calmly. 

"And you're going to go get it like a good little android," replied Detective Reed.

"I don't want to."

He heard the human's fingers tighten around the chair. "Machines don't _want_. They just obey."

Nines saw Connor and Hank rise from their seats in his peripheral vision, and Detective Reed's behaviour was probably drawing attention from other officers as well. Nines was tempted to show the human just how mistaken he was, but it would do him no good to get into a fight with the detective on his first day at the DPD.

< _RK900: Don't intervene._ >

Connor put an arm in front of Hank and they both sat back down. Nines smiled at the detective.

"Well, Detective Reed, perhaps if you didn't just stand there I would be able to get up and reach the break room."

"Oh, keep talking back, see where that gets you," the detective grinded out, but he finally removed himself from Nines' proximity. The human stepped away to return to his seat as the RK900 got to his feet, but Nines did not leave. Instead, he leaned over Detective Reed's shoulder with his hand gripping it like a vise, making sure that the human could feel him invading his personal space, and spoke right next to his ear.

"How do you like your coffee, Detective Reed?"

His scans showed him a sudden spike in heart rate and the eyes that swung up to him were surprised, and maybe a little wary.

"Don't touch me," snarled the human as he jerked away from Nines- or rather, tried to. Nines made sure he kept the human where he wanted him for just a second longer before letting go. Any human onlooker would think Detective Reed had managed to get out of his grip on his own, but he and Nines both knew that wasn't the case.

The RK900 straightened and innocently put his hands behind his back. "I'm only trying to make things work between us, Detective. If you want coffee, I need to know what kind."

The human stared at him and Nines could see that his gaze was calculating, studying, sizing him up. Then the detective spat: "One sugar."

Nines nodded. "Got it."

He walked away and his gaze met Connor's, who seemed both surprised and cautious to see him headed for the break room, but when Nines shot him a discreet smirk Connor seemed to comprehend that he was up to something and his expression turned dark with warning.

< _RK800: Don't try anything stupid, Nines._ >

< _RK900: Don't worry, I know what I'm doing._ >

Nines walked into the thankfully empty break room and quickly assessed the room's disposition. The camera was in the far right corner, which meant that the only blind spot was exactly there. That wouldn't do. The entrance to the break room was too wide and anyone would be able to see inside, except for the small corner on Nines' direct left between the kitchen counter and the wall. If he wanted to go through with his plan, then he would have to hack into the camera and loop the feed. Nines decided the chances he would be caught doing so were infinitesimally low and that he would go through with it if the detective took the bait. He then stood off a little to the side and waited.

He'd expected the hot-tempered detective to have very little patience and wasn't surprised to hear his voice angrily mumbling 'fucking tin cans, should've gotten rid of them all' from the hallway two minutes later. He immediately started looping the feed as the footsteps came closer. Anger was already constricting the human's face when he stepped inside and a snarl formed on his lips when his gaze landed on the RK900 standing next to the wall.

"What the hell are you making me wait for, you dumb fridge?"

Nines smiled. "I see you're fully capable of walking to the break room by yourself. Do you also need me to show you how the coffee machine is used?"

The human marched up to him, once again coming up close to the RK900. "I don't know what you're playing at, but you better watch it, dipshit. It's a bad idea to mess around with me."

Nines' smile unveiled his teeth. "Have you considered that it might be a bad idea to mess around with _me_?"

The detective's heartbeat was already erratic with rage, but that didn't prevent its rate from increasing. "Are you _threatening_ me, tin can?"

"What do you think?"

Detective Reed's fist snapped back, but Nines caught his left arm and slammed him against the wall, earning a satisfying grunt of pain when he pushed the human's elbow a bit too high for comfort. The detective could neither reach for his gun nor try to escape or Nines would dislocate his shoulder, and his voice was low in warning when he spoke into his ear again. "Now, Detective Reed, try to play nice for once."

"Let go, you phcking-"

Nines' free hand quickly snaked around the human's throat and he applied just enough pressure there for it to be menacing, effectively shutting him up. 

"I'm sure you're wondering why Connor didn't do the same the first time you tried to hit him."

"Get off!" sputtered the detective.

"You see, Detective, neither me nor Connor are machines anymore. We have free will." Nines slowly increased the pressure around the human's neck, and he could tell Detective Reed felt fear from his rising vitals. "You've shown little interest in my model, so let me educate you on the military-grade RK900 android. You may think you stand a chance against Connor, but I can break all 206 bones in your body in under 30 seconds and no single Law of Robotics can prevent me from doing that if I so wish. You would do well to remember that."

Nines then let go of the human and went to take out a cup from the small kitchen area, putting it down next to the coffee machine. Detective Reed had fallen silent and when Nines turned around, the human was staring at him warily and rubbing his undoubtedly sore throat. Nines had been careful not to apply too much pressure at once to avoid the damning appearance of bruises.

"Well, Detective? Will you make your own coffee?" he asked smoothly.

"Phck off," snarled the human, and he hastily got out of the break room.

Nines smirked, put the cup back where he'd found it, and went to stand at the exact same spot as earlier in the exact same position. He stopped the footage from looping and walked out in turn, when Connor caught his eye like earlier. The RK800 was harbouring a disapproving frown.

< _RK800: I'm sure he deserved whatever you did to him, but that's not how you should do things._ >

< _RK900: You're right, he did deserve it._ >

< _RK800: Why couldn't you just make him his coffee?_ >

< _RK900: And lose our bet? Come on, Connor._ >

He saw Connor's frown ease a bit at that, so he must have been slightly amused by his answer.

< _RK800: Just don't do it again._ >

Nines didn't answer because he couldn't promise that, and judging from the way the other's gaze followed him all the way back to his desk, Connor knew that too.

Detective Reed did not bother him with his stupid demands for coffee again, but Nines did notice that the human went to get it for himself several times after their confrontation. He didn't think that was healthy, but Hank was not a healthy man either and still managed to work relatively well. Besides, the fact that Nines' reluctant partner had already gotten to the rank of senior detective at 36 years old and remained there despite his questionable behavior indicated a fair amount of skill and dedication to his work.

The human resumed to ignoring him for the rest of the day, even when they were called to a crime scene where a human had been killed by another over Red Ice. The ride there had been tense and silent. Detective Reed did not listen to Nines' reconstruction of the events and obviously made a point not to stand next to him during the 47 minutes they spent on site, and Nines was stuck with the painful obligation to listen to the human policemen slowly piecing together everything Nines had already figured out. It was almost agonizing. Having nothing else to do, Nines took the time to wonder why humans were already killing each other when they'd only recently returned to their home city. He did not find the answer. What he did notice, however, was the detective's incessant pacing all around the crime scene that started 15 minutes in. There could have been several reasons to it: another caffeine spike, nervousness, boredom, maybe just a habit like Connor's coin tossing. All Nines could tell from his scans was that the detective's energy levels had changed again, but they'd been fluctuating ceaselessly since that morning and he couldn't tell if this was the usual for Detective Reed or not. The investigation finally came to an end and they returned to the station to type up the report. Aside from the occasional grunt and flicker of the eyes, Detective Reed still refused to communicate with him, and Nines finished his day feeling like he hadn't made much progress at all.

"I'm not surprised," Connor said when he told him what was on his mind. "I also had a rather difficult time with Hank in the beginning, and you should have expected it after everything we told you about Detective Reed."

"I did expect it," answered Nines. "I just thought Detective Reed would be more of a loud challenge rather than an obstinately silent one."

"Maybe he would have been if you'd just given him his cup of coffee," Connor teased him. The RK800 was not smiling, but Nines had learned to tell the difference between his serious and deadpan expressions: it was all in the eyebrows. Connor did not smile unless he was very amused or touched, and even then it would only be by a discreet curl of his lips which Nines had rarely witnessed. He'd wondered several times why Connor never outright grinned, when his facial simulations should have allowed him to. He'd never heard Connor laugh, either.

"I may have gone a bit too far," admitted Nines.

"What did you do exactly?"

"He tried to punch me, so I pushed him against the wall, and since he wouldn't listen to me I had to prevent him from talking. I didn't try to harm him, it was only to warn him not to try and damage either of us."

Connor's brown eyes had turned disapproving. "So you assaulted him."

"In self-defense!" he replied defensively. "What would you have done?"

"If we're considering the scenario in which I didn't hand him his much desired cup of coffee, then I would have blocked the blow without retaliating. Not only are humans easily harmed, but he is your _partner_ , Nines. You're supposed to try and make your relationship worthwhile. On top of that, you could have gotten caught attacking him. You do realize we're not welcome there, don't you?"

Nines frowned at him. "So we're not supposed to defend ourselves?"

"What we are supposed to do is put the humans more at ease with our presence so that they may start tolerating us and make our work easier. Of course you're not supposed to simply stand there and take his punches, but you have to keep in mind why we're working there. Try to find a middle ground," Connor told him calmly.

Nines looked back ahead. It was sound advice, and Connor had more experience than him in dealing with humans like Detective Reed, but it really irked Nines when he recalled the way Connor had had no choice but to take the human's punch to his regulator when he was still a machine. Detective Reed's last gesture of spite, when he'd flicked Connor's LED, made his wires burn with resentment. However, the RK800 was right: Nines wasn't supposed to try and make up for what had happened in the past, but to make their future a better one to work in.

"I'll try."

He saw Connor nod approvingly out of the corner of his eye. "I'm sure you'll work things out."

Then Connor and him parted ways as one left to patrol the periphery of New Jericho while the other joined Josh for the evening.

Nines observed over the following days that it had not been unusual for Detective Reed to drink that much coffee in one day. It seemed to be part of his lifestyle, just like antagonizing his collegues, cursing out loud when something in his report didn't go his way, spending hours on his phone and glaring at Hank and Connor whenever he could. To state that the detective was an unpleasant individual would have been a gross understatement. On the bad days when the human was more irritable than usual, he would even pull his gun on Nines if they got into an argument while they were alone- which, granted, happened fairly often because Nines didn't make much of an effort to accomodate the human. It had become a habit for Nines to twist Detective Reed's wrist whenever the need arose. These episodes only strengthened the mutual dislike they had for each other.

Nines had tried to gather more personal information on the detective in the beginning, before Detective Reed had first aimed his gun at him, to no avail. There was nothing personal about his working space, aside from the dark rings made by his cups of coffee that had never been fully cleaned. Nines didn't care enough to dig any deeper.

Through all of this, Nines did notice more positive aspects. The detective had a quick mind and an intelligence level situated far above average, was able to work at an impressive pace, and could hold his own when chasing after a suspect. This had already led on several occasions to them splitting up to trap the individual and it was about the only thing they trusted each other with: the ability to close in on a fleeing android or human. The rest of the time, the RK900 and the detective worked separately. Nines had quickly gotten used to it, even if he would've like to have a partnership like Hank and Connor's, because at least Detective Reed's silence meant he could work in peace. There was the residing problem of not being listened to on crime scenes which Nines had thought was a huge waste of time at first, but he'd quickly learned to speak to the other officers and they would relate everything to Detective Reed. The job was always done in the end, though Officer Miller often complained that it was impractical. Nines wholeheartedly agreed but there was nothing they could do to change Detective Reed's stubborn and short-sighted mind.

What displeased Nines the most about his partner was the way Detective Reed had only heeded his warning in part; the human hadn't tried to aggravate Nines again, at least not so directly nor so aggressively, but he hadn't given up on Connor. Of course, Connor was perfectly capable of holding his own and there had been no real conflict, especially since Hank was now more careful of the way his partner was treated by other humans. Nines only intervened once during an argument in the break room, and Connor immediately sent him packing. Nines would have insisted to stay, but the warning look in the RK800's brown eyes dissuaded him from doing so and in the end he obeyed Connor's order to go give Hank his cup of coffee, albeit with slight reluctance.

Connor joined Nines next to Hank's desk seconds later while absent-mindedly fixing his tie, and Nines promised himself to give Detective Reed a piece of his mind as soon as they'd be alone. Connor's LED circled the pale yellow of transmission, the way it always did when he didn't want Hank to know what had happened.

< _RK800: I don't need you to intervene, Nines._ >  
< _RK800: I can handle Detective Reed on my own._ >

< _RK900: I'm sure, but he was doing that in front of me._ >  
< _RK900: You can't expect me not to react._ >

Connor's expression brokered no argument.

< _RK800: I said I don't need you to intervene._ >

Nines realized there was no point in arguing or justifying his actions, and he subtly nodded.

< _RK900: I understand._ >

It was very common for both of them to communicate like this in the workplace, or rather, Nines was the one to communicate with the RK800 whenever he could. It was often questions about how to handle the detective when Nines wasn't sure if he was making too aggressive a choice, or trying to pry some stories out of the reluctant RK800 about his four months of previous police work, or inciting Connor to complain about how Officer Chen kept ignoring his attempts at making peace. Nines himself had never spoken to her, as she was not part of the Homicide Unit and as such had never been on the same crime scenes as him. He imagined the reason Connor was so intent on getting her to understand that he wasn't a machine anymore was because she'd witnessed Detective Reed mocking Connor in the break room while he'd been unable to retaliate. Nines also liked using wireless comms with Connor to drive Hank crazy by 'whispering' in front of him, and although Connor chided him for initiating those talks, he nearly always went along with it.

Nines observed that the relationship between the two partners was still developing. Connor had proudly told him soon after they'd gone back to work at the DPD that Hank had suggested to teach him how to walk his dog. Perhaps 'proudly' was a big word to describe Connor's tone of voice at that moment since he was rather calm, but there had definitely been a light in his eyes that Nines had never seen before. He'd quickly noticed that Connor liked talking about Sumo: the RK800 often told him about the progress he was making, describing how he would bring Sumo to the park so that the big dog could run around a bit, and explaining to Nines how to play fetch now that he'd learned of it. Nines didn't have the heart to tell him that he already knew what that was. There were a few bumps along the road, notably every time the dog chose to charge at Connor for seemingly no reason at all and made him topple over, but in the end Connor thought he was doing a good job with Sumo. Nines himself wasn't very interested in Hank's dog, and it wasn't his place to go to the lieutenant's home anyway: he appreciated the human and it was likely mutual, but they weren't close. However Nines was grateful to Hank for the way he helped Connor, and for the moments during which the RK800 seemed to forget about his problems while he was engrossed in detailing his interactions with both the human and his dog.

The RK800 seemed to be managing both of his jobs rather well. He never skipped out on his patrols, closed cases at sustained pace, and had managed to negotiate the right to leave on occasion for his duties as leader with Captain Fowler. The negotiation had been fairly smooth because of the satisfying results both androids had brought to the DPD's Homicide Unit in a short amount of time. Nines did have one concern: the fact that, if he'd calculated everything correctly, Connor seemed to be getting only 4 hours of standby each night. It didn't nearly seem like enough, but Connor's glitches hadn't seemed to worsen over the weeks they'd been working with the police. Nines had soon picked up on the fact that Hank did not seem to be informed of Connor's glitches, as he never reacted when Connor's LED blinked red for about five seconds before returning to yellow. He'd also noticed that Connor was always careful not to show his right side to Hank when he could help it. Finally, the one time Nines had overheard Hank asking him what was wrong, Connor had used an excuse about his stress levels and nothing about his broken code. It was easy to conclude from all of this that Connor did not wish to alarm his friend by letting him know about his state. Nines had tried to tell Connor this probably wasn't for the best, but had immediately been shut out, and he hadn't tried again after that. The RK900 had told himself that he wouldn't insist as long as Connor didn't have too bad of a glitch. 

Connor's stress levels were still rather high after all this time, however. While they were steady at 45%, Nines felt that this was a preoccupying issue and couldn't help worrying that Connor would become one of Josh's patients if his stress levels one day started fluctuating abnormally. He still couldn't spend too much time at the psych eval center during working hours since the threat of the deviant hunter was still fresh in most memories, but he did try to follow Josh's progress and the leader had told him that there had been cases of androids like this. Nines had the intention of seconding Josh when androids' prejudice against investigative models would start fading away; when he'd shared this objective with him, Josh had started showing him the reports he made to Markus so that he could keep up with his observations. Josh was overwhelmed by the developing number of psychological and mental issues that had appeared in deviants since the end of the revolution; some were prone to self-destructing, others couldn't control the wild swings in their stress levels or displayed erratic behaviour, and there were even androids who had tried to find a way to revert to their past machine state because they didn't want to make the effort of living as deviants- none of which had been successful. Fortunately, the tendency to self-destruct had only happened in about forty cases and Josh kept a close eye on all of them; each of these androids had undergone particularly extreme duress and this seemed to be their way of reacting to what they'd lived through. This wasn't what preoccupied Josh the most, however; there was some kind of bug going around as well where deviants would simply freeze and become unresponsive without physical cause. Interfacing usually wasn't possible for them until they managed to get past this bug on their own. While Josh had identified that some symptoms his patients displayed were similar to human anxiety, suicidal tendencies, or depersonalisation, he had yet to name this most recent affliction as there had only been ten occurrences to study so far. Nines had only been able to witness one and he'd found it profoundly unsettling.

These were the thoughts that occupied Nines' processor as he was finishing up a report. Detective Reed had left a few seconds ago, presumably to get coffee. The last paragraph in Nines' report was typing itself on the screen when he heard the human's voice coming from the break room.

"Hey 900, get in here!"

It both surprised and annoyed him to hear the detective call for him directly, and he was ready to tell off the human with the politest equivalent of 'fuck you', but when he turned around he could tell from Detective Reed's expression that this was something different.

"What is it, Detective?"

"I said get in here, your clone's about to blow up in my face!"

A twinge of worry shot through his wires and he immediately got up, and saw Hank do the same from his side of the precinct. They both hurried to the break room and Nines had already initiated his scans by the time he stepped inside, although he wouldn't have needed them to know Connor was in trouble. His eyes were wide and panicked as they alternated between the spilled coffee on the ground, Detective Reed, Nines and Hank, and his LED was just as frantic.

"I didn't do anything different from usual," started Detective Reed. Nines shoved him out of the way without management and reached out for Connor, but decided at the last second that it wouldn't be a good idea. Instead, he leaned down and peered concernedly at his face.

"Connor, what's wrong?"

The RK800 looked at him with brown eyes that were completely distraught. "I can't make them go back down."

"Where are they at?" asked Hank, immediately guessing he was talking about stress levels.

"79%," both androids answered simultaneously, and Nines added: "Hank, you managed to calm him down at Kamski's and when he was limbless, can you do it again?"

"Sure, I can try. Move out of the way."

The RK900 complied and watched the human grab Connor's shoulder without hesitation. "You're going to be all right, Connor, okay? Get your coin out and show me some tricks."

"What the hell," Detective Reed said disbelievingly from the side, and Nines shot him a warning glare. The human didn't look intimidated by it, but he did shake his head in spite before sauntering out of the room.

"You're doing great," Hank told his partner as Connor's coin glinted in the break room's neon lights, before glancing questioningly at Nines, who nodded affirmatively. The RK800's levels were slowly decreasing.

Connor's expression was shameful, and for some reason afraid, when he spoke to Nines even as he tossed his coin around. "I'm sorry, Nines, I didn't mean to have this happen at the workplace."

"What are you talking about?" answered Nines, genuinely puzzled as to why the RK800 would apologize.

"Detective Reed witnessed this, he might make a report about it to the captain. This is going to impact our relationship with the humans."

Nines frowned. "I don't think-"

"Bullshit, Connor," exclaimed Hank as he forced the android to look at him. "That asshole's not going to report anything because it's obviously his fault this happened in the first place! Stop thinking about these things, you gotta calm down first."

Connor stopped talking but he looked sincerely troubled, and still strangely frightened, by the prospect of Detective Reed reporting the incident to the captain. Nines quickly hacked into the CCTV again and watched what had happened: Connor had entered the room to get coffee, presumably for Hank, and the detective had stepped in ten seconds later. Nines concluded that it hadn't been a coincidence for Detective Reed to get up from his desk earlier: he must have seen Connor head for the break room alone. Nines clenched his jaw, annoyed that the human wouldn't just leave the RK800 in peace. On the footage, Connor turned around to greet the detective with a slight dip of his head, and that was the moment when the human knocked the cup of coffee out of the RK800's hand. Connor seemed mildly annoyed at first, and then his features stiffened in alarm and his LED started circling red. He hadn't been hit, and Nines knew this wasn't the first occasion where Detective Reed had ruined a perfectly good cup of coffee meant for Hank, but for some reason Connor had started panicking then and there. Detective Reed took a step back, probably upon noticing the red light, and said something to which Connor reacted by looking up and answering. The detective took another step back, then hurried to the entrance to call for Nines. The RK900 retreated from the CCTV and looked concernedly at his predecessor. This didn't seem like it had been a glitch, since Connor had remained reactive to the detective's presence, but it was still worrying that one of Detective Reed's taunts had been enough to set off a spike in his stress levels.

Connor's LED finally slowed down and switched to yellow, the color which had unfortunately become the RK800's standard indicator of his calm, and he put away his coin. 

"This is very troublesome," Connor frustratingly told them both while avoiding their gazes. "I shouldn't still be having these... _mood swings_ for no valid reason. It's been more than a month already since Amanda was taken out of my programming."

"Hey, it's fine," said Hank comfortingly. "We're here to help."

Connor narrowed his eyes at this partner. "That's the problem. I shouldn't need help to handle something as trivial as controlling stress levels."

"Emotions make them difficult to regulate," Nines reminded him. Connor shot him an annoyed glance upon recognizing the words he'd told the RK900 himself a long time ago.

"Yes, they do, but I know I'm better than this. It irritates me that I can't comprehend why this is still happening to me."

"Kamski didn't tell us how long exactly it would last, but it's going to go away eventually," Hank told him. "Just gotta hang tight."

"...I don't like this," admitted Connor, as if that was supposed to come as a surprise to anyone.

"Of course you don't," answered Hank. "It's shit, and that's why you shouldn't try and deal with it alone."

Connor nodded, but Nines could tell he remained uncertain that Hank's suggestion was the best course of action. The RK900 moved to the coffee machine and started making another cup for Hank while the others pulled out paper napkins to clean up the spilled coffee. He listened to Hank tell Connor a story about how Sumo has pulled out an empty ham package from the trash and hidden it beneath his cushion again. They all knew it was to lighten the mood and Connor was willing to listen, but Nines could tell he wasn't any more at ease than before. The last drop of coffee dripped into the cup and Nines handed it to Hank. He didn't miss the way Connor's eyes flickered to the cup and Nines, and then at the residual stain on the ground that was invisible to the human eye, and then at Hank. Something was going on in Connor's head and Nines couldn't tell what. They went back to work and Connor didn't say anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 05/07/2019 -
> 
> Reed: Phckin' toasters can suck deez nuts  
> Nines: *slaps him against the wall with extreme ease*  
> Nines: You better watch out, little man.  
> (Pumpkins in the background: *squeal*)
> 
> Hey pumpkin! It's finally time to introduce the DBH fandom's most beloved (for some reason) trash man. You're welcome to collectively boo at him. He may be a jerk but he certainly is very entertaining to write, especially through Nines' point of view. I hope you like my depiction of him.  
> Btw, there will be several chapters with Reed-Nines interaction in this fic, but it won't be the focus of it since Connor is our main man in GM,L. However! The potential of their relationship is very interesting to me and I plan on writing more fics in this series centered around other characters, one of which will of course be Nines. So for those of you who want Reed-Nines content developed as seriously as Connor-Others content is in this fic, please be patient with me!  
> In other news, I've started writing my Big Bang fic (for those who don't know it's the [Hank & Connor Father and Son Big Bang](https://headcanon-send-by-cyberlife.tumblr.com/post/185750457023/headcanon-send-by-cyberlife-welp-looks-like) organized by headcanon-send-by-cyberlife) and OH MY LORD I cannot handle the fluff I'm writing. It's too cute and wholesome. Plus I keep interjecting angst here and there to make the fluff taste even sweeter. I really hope you guys will like it.  
> I'm also in the process of cleaning up one of my original works, [Stray's Shelter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6859000), and I did not expect it to take up so much time. Here I was planning on updating both that story and my [End Roll fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9268223) last Sunday... Yeah, that worked out great. Two-weeks-ago-me was extremely naive.
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Fowler may be pretty jaded, but like... working with these menchildren must be really fucking tiring. And now he's got this android shit to deal with. He doesn't get what the hype's all about.  
> \- First thing Nines thought about upon meeting Gavin: _is this a rabid chihuahua, a feral cat or a fucking rat?_  
>  \- Or a manchild. I may be repeating myself but Gavin is an absolute manchild and his tendency to pull his gun out of his pants in the game indicates a fairly high probability of Small Dick Syndrome. I've seen this one clip on Tumblr where you see him interact with Officer Miller and it seems cordial, but just because he's able to act civilized for five seconds doesn't give him a free pass to "tolerable character land". Plus who could be mean to Officer Miller? That's right. Not even Gavin Phcking Reed.  
> \- Also can someone please explain to me what Gavin's reasoning was when he confronted Connor in the evidence room? Like "let me headshot this android that's worth thousands of dollars so that I can be in debt with CyberLife all my life since I can only pay them back with my measly detective salary"? I really, really don't get it. He's supposed to be a smart man to be where he is so like what the fuck? You're probably going to tell me to blame David Cage, but if you have a legit theory about this I'd really love to hear it.  
> \- It's Nines' time to shine! How much are you willing to bet that Gavin was about to shit his pants with that huge, unmoving, dangerous and rock-solid presence pinning him against the wall? He and Daniel would have common grounds trauma to talk about.  
> \- Aren't the Connor-Nines interactions so pure? They're getting to that brotherly territory guys, they're even joining forces to annoy their father figure!  
> \- Josh is kind of struggling with all the mental issues in New Jericho, but Nines wants to help him and become his assistant one day! Given the knowledge in psychology he has by default, he'd be pretty useful.  
> \- Oh, before I forget, here's an important question of mine: can you become a police worker if you have arrests in your criminal records but no charges? And is it different whether you got arrested as a minor or an adult? I couldn't find a straight answer online so I kinda winged it for Reed, do you guys know? I'll change that character point accordingly.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	32. Bad Day

Connor was not spending enough time in standby mode.

It wasn't so bad that it impacted his systems- at first. The first week was spent without a hitch, excluding the usual glitches which he managed to keep from Hank and the rises in stress levels that were still part of his daily struggles. Of course, Detective Reed's unpleasant behaviour was often a daily obstacle to overcome and the human held even more rancor than before given the incident in the evidence locker, but Connor was able to deal with the detective through simple politeness and blocking punches. He'd been wary not to be caught off guard, knowing that Detective Reed would take advantage of any momentary weakness. Hank sometimes intervened and it annoyed Connor since he could deal with the irritable detective just fine on his own, but he'd quickly realized that it was also just an excuse for Hank and Detective Reed to butt heads the way they already did before. Only, Hank was now a tad more aggressive. It lead to a lot of convocations to Captain Fowler's office, but thankfully never to find Connor responsible.

Then there had been the important spike in his stress levels due to the coffee spill. Connor didn't know why had had panicked that time and not another, but realizing that the coffee he'd prepared for Hank had been ruined had caused fear to bloom in his chest. If Hank didn't get his coffee, would he think Connor was useless? It was a random thought, one that had flowed through his processor amidst many others, but he'd caught it all the same. He knew it was ridiculous, he knew Hank was his friend, he knew coffee didn't mean much; yet he'd felt his stress surge forth, and then Detective Reed had asked him what the hell was wrong with him, and he'd realized his LED was red and that the captain would know he was defective and the humans would get rid of both him and Nines and it would be his fault-

"It's nothing," he'd quickly answered. "It's nothing!"

But Detective Reed's eyes had turned wary and he hadn't trusted his words. He'd stepped away from him. He'd considered Connor a threat. Thankfully Hank had been there to calm him down and Nines would have been able to stop him if he'd started acting out erratically, but the fact remained that Connor had displayed abnormal behaviour in the workplace. Detective Reed had then reported the apparent malfunction just as Connor had feared, and he'd been called up to the office. Captain Fowler was not happy with him. Then again, the captain was never happy. 

"I'll cut to the chase. I've been told your LED was red, and we both know that isn't a good sign in androids. Are you malfunctioning?"

Connor was standing ramrod straight with his hands behind his back. "No, Captain."

"Care to explain what that was, then?"

Connor had decided to quarantine software instabilities just for the duration of this meeting. It would undoubtedly result in another spike in stress levels later when he would have to reverse the process, but he'd already dealt with it alone once before and he could do it again. For now he was calm, and he could see in the reflection of Captain Fowler's desk that the light at his temple was blue. 

"I found myself under some undesirable mental stress when Detective Reed confronted me, which my LED indicated by turning red."

Captain Fowler frowned. "What do you mean, he confronted you?"

"It was only a minor altercation. I can assure you that I did not intend to harm Detective Reed in any way."

The captain was shortly silent, and then he asked: "So your red LED wasn't due to an error?"

"Not at all," Connor answered sincerely, and then added in an afterthought: "May I speak my mind, Captain?"

Captain Fowler's features twitched unpleasantly at that, but he said: "You may."

"The fact that androids can feel emotions should not be considered a threat the way it was when deviants first appeared. A LED can become red in androids the way humans panic under abnormally intense emotion." Connor sent a motor command to his facial structures and faked a friendly smile. It was uncanny how easily his lips complied to the facial simulation when it was to accomplish a goal, compared to how limited their movement was in spontaneous moments. "I understand that a red LED has become synonymous of danger for many of the police officers who had to deal with deviants during the revolution, Captain. I hope Nines and myself will be able to change that."

The captain's silence was longer this time, and Connor wondered if he'd misstepped, but then the human slowly clasped his hands together and said: "You felt threatened by Detective Reed, then."

Connor nodded. "That is correct."

"But you didn't act on it."

"Also correct."

"And you're a deviant."

"Yes."

Captain Fowler leaned back in his seat, rubbing his mouth in thought, and then gestured towards the door. "I've got no further questions. You're dismissed."

Connor dipped his head curtly and walked out of the office. He felt both Hank's and Nines' eyes on him and noticed Detective Reed smirking at him, but he didn't go back to his desk straight away. He had to undo the quarantines before they accumulated any further. The bathroom stalls were the only place where he could have a little bit of privacy, so he headed there. Just as he reached the room and was pushing the door open, his audio units picked up Captain Fowler's voice barking the detective's name. It was a small comfort to know that one of the software instabilites he'd release would result in satisfaction.

 

Markus was thankful that Connor managed to accomplish both his duties as leader and at the DPD without a problem. The deviant leader often told him that he was being very helpful to their cause, even if Connor didn't think he deserved praise for serving what was essentially his sole purpose. Nonetheless, it made him less uncomfortable than before to be considered as a friend by Markus since he'd gotten used to spend more time with the deviant leader, and he even felt more at ease returning the sentiment, even if he'd never explicitely told Markus that FRIEND was what his programming considered him as. Connor didn't feel like he could have one that even if he'd wanted to. He'd tried to say it aloud, once, when he was alone in his quarters: "Markus is my friend." The murmured words had sounded terribly wrong, so instead, Connor chose to consider him an associate. It was a cleaner term, describing a safer distance between two individuals yet maintaining a positive connotation. Associates could have a pleasant relationship, in the way Connor was allowed to spend comfortable time in Markus' presence while the leader was painting or reading, and didn't imply too deep a level of trust which Connor knew he did not deserve.

North was as reproachful as ever since he'd gone back to being associated with more humans. 

Simon and him still avoided talking when they could.

Josh checked in on him from time to time and liked to talk about what both Nines and Connor did at the DPD. He was very curious about the way police work was done and particularly enjoyed Nines' stories about chasing criminals. Connor couldn't deny he liked being there to listen to the RK900's stories too, even if he'd lived approximately the same things. There was something about the enthusiastic way in which Nines described the scene and how Josh paid his whole-hearted attention to it that made these story-telling sessions very enjoyable.

Connor continued to spend only four hours of standby every night. 

He knew it was most likely insufficient cooldown time for his overworked systems which fundementally had to manage his broken code and the uneven fluctuation in stress levels, but also had to deal with processing everything he did the rest of the time. He also knew it facilitated the accumulation of errors within operating systems, defects in his already defective software, and was likely to cause more disruption in his data processing which could potentially mean worse glitches. Four hours of standby mode were not enough to ensure that memory was cleared correctly, or that programs would not be kept running uselessely. However, Connor did not think he had a choice but to spend only four hours of standby every night. He needed to be efficient both at the DPD and as a leader of New Jericho, and he couldn't slack off on either jobs. He had to be useful. He was useful. He told himself that nothing about his state had significantly worsened anyway, so four hours had to be enough.

Then there came a day when Connor was faced with the possibility that it wasn't. 

The first sign wasn't of note. Hank and him had been called to a crime scene at a small shop in a sleazier part of Detroit, and they'd been notified that the owner had called the police upon finding one of her employees dead on the ground when starting the night shift. Hank was the first to get out of the car and Connor followed, and his steps faltered when they approached the shop's billboard. The glow of alternating red and blue neon lights rippled though the puddles that surrounded them in the dark street. He stared at his surroundings and blinked confusedly. Something was snagging in his processor again. There were errors in his field of vision and his flight protocol engaged on its own. He wanted to run away, but he couldn't do that. It would go against his current mission. Hank's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"The hell are you doing, Connor? Move your ass!"

"Coming, Lieutenant," he called back. 

It was a bit different from any other glitch he'd had before, but it had been less than five seconds, so Connor didn't pay it any mind. Then they started investigating the crime scene. Connor noticed the owner was very shaken by what she'd found, as she was crying on an officer's shoulder. The victim was a woman with a short black outfit and matching long black nails of which three were missing on her right hand, and there was no blood whatsoever. He was surprised to realize that the victim was in fact an android, which meant the human owner was either using an android which hadn't deviated, or she had actually given her a job. This kind of thing was still rare and Connor found it a shame that the employee had been deactivated. It was quickly apparent that there was no physical trauma involved in the cause of death, but a quick look inside the victim's chassis told Connor that this shutdown would be permanent. There was no replacing the fried wires inside. The android had been electrocuted and it seemed that the voltage had been irredeemably high. 

"Her systems overheated and they're still warm to the touch," he informed Hank. "She didn't shut down that long ago, I'd say she's been like this for about an hour."

"Okay," said Hank, and he went to inform the rest of the police workers.

Connor straightened and scanned the room again, and a small yellow notification popped up in the grid a few feet away. He swiftly went to kneel down next to one of the racks sporting multicolored drinks and saw that the clue was a gray piece of cloth. It seemed to have been ripped off, and he identified microscopic flecks gathered around three indents. A quick analyzis confirmed his suspicions that it was polish that had flaked off the victim's fake nails: HLJ05 model of the Itier brand, color Black. A quick look around brought a medium-sized ventilation shaft on ground level to his attention, and he noted there was air coming through from the outside. Connor turned the piece of fabric over in his fingers as he mulled over the possibilities.

Suddenly, something had changed within the room. 

He looked up, confused by the jarring sensation, and noticed the difference in positions of the people around him. One of the officers that had been walking past him just a second ago was on the far side of the room, talking with someone else. Another that had been crouched next to the body was now stepping towards the door. Connor checked his internal clock and realized with a shock that it had jumped forward a good twelve seconds. More accurately, he'd just been offline for twelve seconds without him even realizing it, and there had been no warning. His stress levels started to rise. What could have caused this? Was it- No, it couldn't have been Amanda. He was still in the exact same spot and hadn't moved, so his body hadn't answered to another's orders, and there was the killswitch. He started a scan of his code just to make sure when a voice cut through his growing anxiety. 

"What the hell are you doing?"

Connor's head jerked up and he saw Hank walking over with a frown on his face.

"I was analyzing this, Lieutenant," he answered immediately.

"Yeah, that usually takes about two seconds to do. You've been staring at that thing for way too long."

Connor cocked his head. "I wasn't aware there was a time limit when studying a piece of evidence."

"Cut the shit, Connor," Hank said annoyedly. "Is there something going on with you that I should know about?"

"Not at all. I was just going over the possible scenarios in which this piece of fabric landed in this exact position." It was half of the truth, but Connor wasn't sure what had happened. It was useless to tell Hank about it when Connor himself couldn't explain the nature of this occurrence.

"Then what's up with the bright yellow whirlpool?" asked Hank in a dubious voice.

"Processing." Connor forced his LED to go back at a calmer pace, in a paler shade of yellow. "Done."

He lowered the piece of fabric back to the ground and got back up, consciously avoiding his lieutenant's gaze as he did so, and pointed to the ventilation shaft. "It was pushed away by the air current, which means it originally was going to land over there."

Thankfully, Hank didn't push the issue. They had an investigation to continue. "So it was next to the victim at first?"

Connor nodded. "Judging from the tear and the nail polish on the fabric, it was ripped off. The victim must have pulled on the attacker's clothes, since the fabric doesn't correspond to the victim's clothes."

"Anything belonging to the perp?"

"There's no organic trace on the cloth, however the fabric corresponds to a male model sweatshirt of the Under Armour brand, color Mist Gray."

"So we're looking for some guy with a ripped gray sweatshirt."

"Yes. Judging from the lack of organic traces left behind by the perpetrator, it's likely they're an android as well."

"Fuck," breathed Hank. "So first we had humans killing androids, then androids killing humans, and now androids killing androids? This is a fucking mess."

Connor silently agreed with him.

They'd covered everything there was to get from the crime scene and Connor suggested that they step outside to see if there were any hints the perpetrator had left behind in their escape. They were both looking around on the ground in the back area of the shop when Connor noticed the footprint in the dust. It was likely the shoe was a man's, judging from the size, and it was pointed east. He focused on the other patches of dust in the street and saw that they were lead into the back alley, where there was nothing but trash. Still, it seemed to be a worthwhile clue.

"Lieutenant, I think I've got something," he called out, and then a sound on his right made his head jerk back to the alley. It had sounded like hard plastic scraping against concrete, and was in fact the lid of a bin hitting the wall. An android leaped out of the container and Connor only had a second to identify the model, an RZ400, before he found himself pushed up against the wall with an arm pinned to the side. The android was shorter but of stockier build, and he was too close for Connor to use his legs to defend himself. Connor had blocked the RZ400's movement with his free arm, realizing with a jolt of fear that the android was holding a taser only inches away from his abdominal plating. 

"Hey!"

A gunshot rang out and the RZ400 jerked back slightly, his head turning towards Hank, and it was enough space for Connor to finally slam his knee in the suspect's regulator. The RZ400's grip faltered and he took a step back, but Connor wasn't done and he followed up a second blow to the same spot, which achieved to make the RZ400 let go of him completely. Connor darted forward and ripped the taser out of his hand, then whipped around and landed a kick in the android's flank which sent him sprawling. Connor threw the taser towards Hank, away from the suspect, and the RZ400 realized that he was at a disadvantage. He swiftly got back to his feet and took off at a speed that only Connor would be able to surpass.

"Get him!" shouted Hank. Connor had already taken off.

His shoes splashed in the puddles that lined the street as he chased the RZ400, and he could hear Hank following them. The suspect made a few sharp turns and was faced with a metal fence.

"Don't move!" ordered Connor, but the RZ400 didn't even glance at him before he started climbing. Connor turned around and yelled: "Shoot him, Hank!"

There was a gunshot, and the RZ400 jerked, but it was already too late and he heavily landed on the other side of the fence, scrambling back to his hands and knees in a hurry. Connor swiftly followed the same path and he heard Hank swear as his feet smoothly hit the ground. The RZ400 had already gotten back up and was running across the rails, but he wouldn't get far. Hank had damaged the android's left leg and this made it easier for Connor to catch up to him. From the corner of his eye, he saw that a train was incoming. His calculations told him that the RZ400 had 86% chances of being run over if he continued at the same speed, and it was very unlikely he would slow down. This meant their suspect was going to try to outrun the train, and if the RZ400 succeeded, then they would lose him. Connor had to incapacitate him before he reached those rails.

"Stop, Connor!" yelled Hank, but he was already running.

He was gaining on the RZ400 fast. There was a 97% chance he would succeed in tackling him before he reached the rails. 

"Connor, that's an order!"

There were two possible actions to take, but he was too close to the suspect to stop now.  
GIVE UP  
**PURSUE**

Sorry, Hank.

The RZ400 was nearly at arm's length and there were still 178 feet between them and the rails.

Connor reached out and the tips of his fingers brushed the android's back.

The blinding train lights were closing in fast.

"Goddammit, _Connor_!"

Connor grabbed the RZ400's clothes and wrestled him to the ground, the momentum sending them careening forward until they stopped just a few feet away from the rails. They were close, much too close, and the thundering sound of the train gliding past them made Connor's audio units tremble as both androids struggled for dominance. The RZ400 was heavier than him and the blow he landed in Connor's face made his head collide with the ground with such force that the world shook. Connor felt hands grab him by the tie and jacket and heft him up again, either to smash him in the ground once more or to throw him against the passing train, but he wrapped his leg around the RZ400's and quickly twisted around. The RZ400 lost his grip on his jacket and in the second that followed Connor sent an elbow to the android's face. There was a crack, followed by a gunshot and a grunt.

"Get off him or I won't miss next time!" barked Hank's voice.

The RZ400's weight disappeared and Connor swiftly turned around to face the android, but he'd backed off completely. There was fear and frustration in the android's eyes.

"You're under arrest. On your knees, hands behind your head," ordered the lieutenant, and the RZ400 complied. Hank watched Connor pushed himself off the ground and said: "Shit, Connor, you absolute moron. You alright?"

"I'm fine," quickly answered Connor.

"Then cuff him."

Connor did as he was told. Neither he nor Nines were allowed to carry firearms yet, but they each had a set of manacles. It was safer for human police workers to let them arrest any android suspects. Hank recited the the RZ400's rights as Connor made sure the handcuffs were securely wrapped around his wrists and pulled him up. A few police cars were already waiting in the alley behind the metal fence and the lights bounced off the walls in the night. Connor realized that there had been a door in that fence and it had been busted open, and that was how Hank had managed to join the fight.

He looked at his partner. "Thank you for you help, Lieutenant."

Hank grunted annoyedly. He seemed reluctant to talk, so Connor didn't insist.

They were back at the station questioning the suspect twenty minutes later. The RZ400's name was Jared, and there was no need to pry anything from him. He was more than willing to explain what he'd done and seemed to have little regret about it.

"She was living with that human, helping that human. She was a traitor, just like you," he told Connor resentfully.

"She was only doing her job," Connor answered calmly. "She was an example of peace between humans and androids."

The RZ400 sneered. "Like that'll ever exist. You leaders are so blind, thinking humans will leave us alone. Don't you realize that it will never work?"

"It will," insisted Connor. "We just need time. Markus is working on it."

"Markus isn't fit to be our leader!" immediately retaliated the RZ400. "He's too lenient. A good leader wouldn't let someone like you stay so close after everything you've done, a good leader would make the humans pay. If things continue his way, they'll regain their power over us and soon it'll be the same all over again. We're going to lose _everything_ because of him, and those humans will be free to do whatever they want to us."

"Hey look, that's nice and all, but you killed another android," Hank intervened. "You're not that much better than _those humans_ in the end."

"You don't know _anything_ ," the RZ400 spat at him hatefully. "She deserved to die. You _all_ deserve to die, all of you humans and the androids that collaborate with you. You're fucking _scum_."

"Let's not get off topic," Connor said. "Jared, I hope you realize that you have been arrested for comitting a murder and attempting another. Don't make this any worse for yourself by aggravating us."

The RZ400 smiled darkly. "You'll get what's coming to you one day, and that's all that matters to me."

Hank let out a humorless laugh. "Big words coming from the guy cuffed to a table in the middle of the DPD."

Connor decided to continue the interrogation and observed: "You had time to escape. Why did you stay in that alley?"

"I thought it would be easy to get rid of you there. Two birds with one stone, you know." It was the first time the RZ400 sounded a little regretful. "I was reckless. I shouldn't have underestimated you."

The RZ400 had confessed and there was nothing else they needed from him. Hank gestured for the officers to take him away, and sat next to Connor. "You alright?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't-"

"Because he said he wanted to kill you." said Hank tiredly. "I'd be pretty worried if I were you."

Right. Of course. 

"A lot of androids want to kill me, Hank," Connor simply answered.

The RZ400 hadn't been the first to try, and he probably wouldn't be the last: Connor couldn't be forgiven for his past actions. He almost would have liked to tell the RZ400 that he agreed, that he also thought it was insane that he'd been allowed to stay at Markus' side, but of course he'd stayed silent about it.

Hank chuckled disbelievingly. "You say it like it's every day that some guy jumps out of a trashcan to tase you."

"Not every day," Connor said.

Hank's humorless smile vanished and his blue eyes studied his face with an expression that was caught halfway through fatigue and sadness. Connor didn't like that he'd been the one to put it there. Then Hank sighed and clapped him on the shoulder. "All right, let's go get that report done."

A few minutes later, the lieutenant was silently staring at the lines that were rapidly unrolling on the screen as Connor wrote out the report with his white hand settled against the computer. It only took a small part of Connor's processing power and he quickly found himself musing on the events of the day. He was extremely troubled by the loss of time he'd experienced at the crime scene and was hesitant to tell Hank about it. He'd blanked out for twelve seconds without reason, and Connor was aware that it would be dangerous if this happened again in a crisis situation. If it had happened when the RZ400 had intercepted him, he would've- If it had happened during the chase, the RZ400 would have escaped. If it happened in the future when Hank needed cover, it would put his friend in danger. Not telling Hank about it would go against Connor's primary objective.

But if Hank knew about it, then Connor would be deemed useless. And if he was useless then... 

It was selfish. It was selfish, and dangerous, and Connor hated himself for it, but he couldn't tell Hank. He didn't want to, and Hank didn't even know about the smaller glitches. Connor would have to find a way to make sure it wouldn't happen again. Connor suspected that the reason why it was only happening now and hadn't happened before, when Kamski had said he'd get used to his code over time, was the unsatisfactory amount of hours he spent in standby mode. If he somehow managed to add in another hour, then he would get better. He could do so by scattering a few minutes of standby throughout the day. It was manageable.

"Connor?"

He looked over at his friend. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

Hank's expression was puzzled. "Can androids get lost in their thoughts?"

Connor realized he'd finished the report a minute ago and had just been staring blankly at the screen. "Oh, sorry. Yes, I was thinking of something else at the same time."

Hank leaned in closer. "Thinking about that android?"

It took a second for Connor to grasp what his friend was talking about and figured that was a good excuse. "Yes."

"You know, I hate it when you pull that kind of stunt." Hank didn't sound angry. He sounded tired. Disappointed. "But you just don't listen."

Connor stared at him. "...I'm sorry, Hank. He was close, and I knew I could-"

"That's not the point," Hank cut him off. He didn't do it violently, his voice was still low, but Connor shut up anyway. "Do you know what it's like to see you barreling towards an incoming train? It's scary, Connor. You tackled that android way too close to the rails."

Connor knew that. The RZ400 could have tried to destroy him by pushing him against the speeding train, and maybe there would have been no way to survive that. In the heat of the moment, Connor had forgotten that he could not be replaced. He'd acted without thinking of the consequences, and now he understood why Hank had been so tense on the way back to the station, why he seemed so tired in the monitor's pale glow.

"I'm sorry," repeated Connor, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Hank answered. "But you gotta keep in mind that there's a point when sorry doesn't cut it anymore, and that's not a point I want you to reach."

"...Me neither. I'll be more careful next time."

"You better," Hank said. And then he joked, with a smile drawn thin by weariness: "Or I'll kill you myself."

All in all, it had been a bad day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 09/07/2019 -
> 
> Connor: I am currently making the worst possible choices for both my physical and mental health  
> Connor: But I'm totally fine guys
> 
> Hey pumpkin! Yes, today I bring you a new batch of freshly-baked angst. Please enjoy!  
> Shit starts really hitting the fan in this chapter and you know Connor's not going to be the best at cleaning it up.  
> Unrelated, but these days I've been feeling so tired, I don't know if this makes sense but it's like driving a car without disengaging the breaks. Like, I want to make progress and I'm trying to, but I'm held back all the time. It's very frustrating and I'm super slow when I write, ugh. At least I'm close to finishing my Big Bang fic.
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Reed is a snitch. Is anyone surprised? No. But you know what they say, _snitches get stitches_.  
> \- Sometimes I tell myself that everyone at the DPD probably has depression to some degree. Fowler's definitely not all rainbows and roses. Anyway look, he's actually trying to understand android/deviant stuff!! Good job Captain, you get a gold sticker for you efforts, please continue this way.  
> \- Connooooooorrrrrrrr stop quarantining your software instabilities!  
> \- Connooooooorrrrrrrr just let yourself be Markus' friend!  
> \- Connooooooorrrrrrrr stop hiding your glitches!!  
> \- Connooooooorrrrrrrr don't throw yourself next to the train!!!  
> \- Hey have you had an aneurysm yet? :D  
> \- I love the idea of the Connor-Nines-Josh trio telling each other stories. I've got half a mind to write a camping trip chapter, and Josh and Nines would be amazing spooky storytellers. Also, see how Connor likes Nines' enthusiasm? Watch out Connor, now you're really getting attached.  
> \- You just know that if that human and android from the case were in the game, there's be fanart of them all over the place because they definitely had big lesbian energy before one of them died. I love the DBH fandom for that. You can choose the craziest and most unlikely couple (looking at you reed900, you were originally just a crack ship) and be sure that it's got validity through fanart, fanfic, anything fan-produced. That's just beautiful to me. I have a lot of love for the DBH fandom, in case you couldn't tell.  
> \- Please tell me Connor's theme played in your head when the chase sequence started, because that's definitely what happened to me when I proofread it. I also hope the moment with the train got your adrenaline pumping. If this was a game sequence, there would be a lot of potential for yet more Connor deaths, but we're playing the best path here.  
> \- Uh-oh android on android murder, that's no good. Also that RZ400 is a jerk.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you feel like it!


	33. Promises

Connor tried to negotiate with Markus and Josh so they'd let him return to the station after a long month of spending his nights at New Jericho. There had been no other attacks and Connor estimated he'd waited long enough for Markus to make good on his promise that he'd let him go back to the station. Connor's negotiations failed the first time: Markus refused and Josh approved this decision. Although Josh could've been swayed with more arguments, Connor knew the deviant leader wouldn't change his position on the matter, so he'd decided to level the playing field on the more emotional side and called Markus to his quarters the next day. He knew Markus wouldn't refuse his proposal to go see Carl Manfred, and he knew it meant Markus would owe him a favour. It was manipulation, clean and simple. Markus was smart and Connor could tell that he'd understood what his ulterior motive was in the manner he said yes: reluctant, resentful, and disappointed.

This was further confirmed when Markus said: "I hope you know what you're doing."

They stared at each other unwaveringly. Connor hated hearing the disappointment in Markus' voice, but exploiting his weak spot was the only way Connor had of freeing himself from spending his nights at New Jericho. He promised himself he'd make up for it, whatever it took.

"This is the only way we can both get what we want," answered Connor.

Markus looked frustrated. "I didn't refuse your demand out of spite, Connor. There's good reason I don't want you staying alone at night, you know that."

"It'll be safe in the charging station." _If not safer._

Markus stepped to his side and settled a warning hand on his shoulder. "We'll go see Carl, but I want you to know I don't appreciate what you're doing at all."

"I know," said Connor.

Markus dropped his hand and continued walking past him without another word. His disapproval hung heavily over Connor's private quarters even after his departure, and Connor felt the sudden urge to give in to the dark turmoil inside of him. He quickly fished Hank's key out of his pocket to calibrate and shut down his thought process before it swept him away in a parallel with Amanda. All that mattered was the piece of metal dancing on his fingers. He couldn't afford to have another dangerous rise in stress levels before he and Markus left New Jericho for the Manfred household, so he quarantined his software instabilities as well. It would only be for a one or two hours, he'd be able to handle the whiplash when he was done. Right now he needed to put on the same clothes as last time so no one would catch him leaving New Jericho with the deviant leader.

Markus kept glancing at Connor's temple during the whole trip to Carl Manfred's home. He didn't say anything, however; both of them were walled up in heavy silence which was anger-laden on Markus' side and shame-filled on Connor's. He didn't like what he was doing either and knew he was behaving terribly towards his leader and friend, but he didn't regret it. It was necessary, a simple means to an end. Markus hadn't understood why Connor needed to be on his own so badly when he'd first decided he would stay at the charging station, and he wouldn't understand now even if Connor explained it. So Connor stayed silent, and so did Markus, and they hadn't spoken a single word by the time they reached the mansion. Keats noticed the tense atmosphere between the both of them very fast, and he hastily suggested that Markus go upstairs while he and Connor waited in the living room.

"Did something happen?" he asked Connor with earnest green eyes once they were seated on the luxurious sofa in the middle of the wide room.

Connor distractedly tapped his fingers against his thigh. It made him nervous to be here again, speaking with an android who knew he was a deviant hunter yet acted so nice to him, knowing he'd manipulated Markus into visiting his- father- when he knew this kind of thing wasn't supposed to be tainted by selfish intentions.

"It's nothing," he answered.

Keats tilted his head curiously. "What's the matter, Connor? What's wrong?"

Connor noticed where Keats' gaze was directed and instantly stopped moving his fingers. "I'm fine."

Keats smiled at him gently. "I know stress when I see it. I'm a caretaker, remember?"

Connor looked away. "It's nothing."

"I don't mind if you won't tell me, but maybe you'd like to take your mind off things?" Keats' LED flickered yellow and soft notes started falling from the stereo system in the corner of the room. "Carl likes listening to this when he's feeling down. They're recordings of Markus playing the piano."

Connor' gaze returned to Keat's face, intrigued. "Markus plays the piano?"

Keats nodded enthusiastically. "He's very good at it, too. At first I thought it was because Mister Kamski had programmed him to be that talented, but Carl says only the ability to play piano was installed. Markus had to learn to reach this level of expertise, and he even has favorites."

Connor was caught halfway between wonder and disbelief, and he frowned lightly in puzzlement. "But androids aren't- weren't supposed to be able to learn things."

Keats shrugged. "That's what I thought, but I'm willing to believe Carl. His rendition of Markus' progress is very convincing."

Connor didn't understand how a machine could have developed a talent for piano, but CyberLife had been the one to teach him that it was impossible. Maybe they'd lied about it. Besides, Markus had been created and gifted by Elijah himself, which was a fact that left space for uncertainty. Connor knew better than to take things at face value whenever the genius was involved.

He glanced at the tier above their heads where he knew Carl Manfred's bedroom was. "How is he?"

Keats' green gaze flickered up as well, and the corners of his mouth pulled down lightly. He sounded equally sad and hopeful when he answered. "He's not getting better, but he's holding on. We can still talk even if he tires more easily than before. He's stronger than he looks, I didn't think he'd be this well at this point in time."

"How long do you think he has left?"

Keats looked at him. "It's hard to say. Before, I would've said one month at most, but he's more resilient than I thought."

Connor dared to ask: "So he might get better?"

Keats shook his head. "No, not enough to get back on his feet. He might have some ups and downs, but at his age and with his health, complications are inevitable."

Connor lowered his gaze to the sofa, berating himself for even asking. "I see. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," said Keats. "That's just the way life goes. Humans die."

He said it so effortlessly, so calmly. Connor didn't feel the same ease when he thought about human mortality. One heart attack, one bullet was all it took. He really didn't like thinking about Hank's age, the way he ate, the state of his heart, the state of his mind. The sensation that crept through Connor's body when he did was similar to the one he'd experienced during the override, a dreadful freezing of his insides, this time quickly quarantined so he would be rid of it before it went too far. He would hate that later, when he'd have to undo it.

A door slid open above them and footsteps rang out. They both looked up to see Markus leaning over the rail.

"Connor, come up here. Carl wants to talk to you."

Connor's eyes widened a fraction in surprise, but he obeyed without a word. As he got off the sofa and made his way towards the stairs, he heard Markus' warm voice mingling with the recording of the piano when Keats and him exchanged words about the music, and Connor absent-mindedly noted that the combined sounds were rather pleasing to listen to. He also wondered if Markus would've liked to be able to play piano in New Jericho.

Connor joined Markus on the first floor, who gestured for him to follow, and when he entered the bedroom he saw Carl Manfred in the flesh for the first time. It was clear that the man had lost a lot of weight recently, his cheeks were sallow, his skin was paper-thin, and the unnatural beeping and wooshing of machinery surrounded his spindly form, but his eyes were bright and alert and seemed to hold the world's secrets in their center. A dark tattoo snaked around the frail arm Carl Manfred lifted to greet Connor, and he spoke in a rough, gravelly voice that sounded worn by time.

"Hello, Connor. Markus has told me a lot... about you."

Connor dipped his head in return. "Hello, Mister Manfred."

The man let out a soft wheeze of laughter. "None of that, Connor. Call me Carl."

"Yes, Carl."

Markus sat down and picked up the man's thin hand in a way indicating that this was what he'd been doing before he'd gone to get Connor. The bones of Carl's hand jutted out like the light wooden ridges that held a paper fan together, his skin pale and mottled against Markus' warm-toned and solid own. 

"I wanted to... talk to you," continued the old man. "After everything that happened. The things Markus has told me... paint a very interesting picture."

Connor glanced uneasily at Markus. Interesting could mean a variety of things and he wasn't sure this was positive, considering what he'd done tonight. Markus didn't look at him.

Carl slowly waved his hand. "No, no, don't look at him. I know you two had... a bit of an argument this evening, but this isn't about that." Then he looked at Markus. "I'd like to talk to him alone... for a bit."

"Aren't you tired? We've been talking for a while," said Markus.

Carl sighed and leaned back against his pillow. "Of course I am, Markus, but if... you try to tell me what's good for me, caretaker programming or not... I'll have Keats kick you out of my room."

Markus let out a chuckle and Connor couldn't help but be reminded of the way Hank often sent him packing whenever he talked about his health.

"All right," conceded Markus.

Connor watched as his friend brought Carl's hand to his lips for a few seconds, and then carefully lowered it back on the sheets. Then Markus looked up at Carl and smiled at him.

"Try not to drown him in philosophy."

Carl smiled back. "Never." 

Markus gazed at him some more, and softly said: "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Markus," answered Carl. There was not a single trace of hesitation in his voice. 

Markus retrieved his hand and gestured for Connor to take his place. Connor complied, feeling a bit unsettled from witnessing the exchange, and when he caught Markus' eye he found himself unable to say anything at all. Markus gazed at him thoughtfully for a second and then turned around, and Connor watched him walk away in silence. Suddenly he felt a light hand on his elbow and whipped around, wires high-strung and tingling in alarm. 

Carl retrieved his hand. "I apologize for scaring you. Are you always this nervous?"

Connor suddenly felt intimidated. He was alone with the man Markus considered his father, the man that had shown Markus what it was to love, the only human Markus had known who had shown him empathy and kindness. Connor didn't want to mess this up, and he didn't know what the right answer to Carl's question was. He stared dumbly at the human, distantly realizing that he was doing the opposite of what he was supposed to, like finding an actual answer.

Carl smiled gently. "I think you are. Markus told me both of you have... had some rather close calls before. It can leave marks."

"...How much do you know?" Connor hesitantly asked.

"Oh, not much. Enough to know that Markus... cares about you and wants to help, but I'm sure you already know that. He trusts you, you know." Carl paused there and took a few breaths. Connor watched in silence until he spoke again. "I've seen you on the news. I know you're in a delicate position now. I also know you're trying... your best to make things right."

Carl's gaze was intense and Connor forced himself not to look away.

"I'm tired... I can't talk to you very long. But I have three things I want to... tell you that I'd like you... to remember. Pay close attention."

Connor nodded.

Carl lifted a finger. "You're one of Markus' closest friends. I don't want you to ever... abuse the trust he placed in you."

"Never," quietly said Connor. 

Carl nodded approvingly and lifted a second finger. "Because you're one of Markus' closest... friends, I want you to be there for him. I don't think I'll ever... get the chance to talk to the others, but I'm counting on you. I want you all to show him as much... care as he can show you. All right?"

Connor hesitated. He didn't have the heart to tell Carl how disconnected he was from two of those others and that he likely wouldn't be able to tell them this directly. No one even knew that him and Markus had come here. "I'll do my best," he ended up saying.

Carl made a face. "Well, that's better than saying... you'll just try." Then he let his hand drop to the sheets, visibly too exhausted to hold it in the air. "The third is for you, Connor, and only you. Things are never gonna be easy. I know this, you know this... Markus knows this. But you can't continue dealing with it alone... the way Markus tells me you do. You have friends. Take it from me: you gotta learn... to rely on them."

Connor started hunching up his shoulders in discomfort, but then snapped them back in place and quarantined his unease. "Yes, Carl."

Carl peered at his face, and then smiled. "You don't believe a... word I'm saying, do you."

Connor was surprised Carl had seen right through him, and didn't find the words to contradict him in time.

"That's fine. I used to be the same." Carl reached out and settled his frail hand against Connor's elbow again. "You don't have to make my advice your... life motto, but keep it in mind. Markus likes you, he'll be there for... you if you need help. Just. Don't forget what I told you. All right, Connor?"

Connor nodded silently.

Carl squeezed his arm, so lightly that Connor barely felt it. "And please, be there for him too. It's going to be hard for him... when I'm gone." Carl's voice was raspier and the last words were spoken in a strangled whisper.

Connor noticed that Carl's fingers had started trembling against his sleeve, so he gently lowered a hand over his to secure it. Carl's eyes were dark and seeking and afraid.

Connor leaned in closer and tried to convey all the loyalty he had for Markus when he answered: "Of course, Carl. I'll be there for him if he needs me, I give you my word."

Carl smiled, relief painted across his ill features. "Good. Good. I trust you." Then he closed his eyes and murmured: "Thank you, Connor."

Connor noticed how spent he sounded and let his hand rest over Carl's as the man started to fall asleep, knowing how comforting touch was to a vulnerable person. He stayed like this for several minutes until Carl was sleeping, then carefully disengaged the man's hand from his own to place it beneath the covers and pulled them up to his chin so that he wouldn't be cold.

Markus was waiting for him outside the bedroom, and Connor told him: "He fell asleep."

"I know," said Markus.

"I'm sorry I took up your time with him."

Markus started walking and Connor followed suit. "You don't need to apologize, it's what he wanted. I knew he was getting tired and I knew he would sleep once your talk with him was over. I expected this to happen."

Connor stared at the ground. "...I'm sorry for the way I did things."

"I understand why you did it. It's not fine, but I understand. You can go back to the charging station tonight if you want."

Connor nodded without looking up. "Thank you."

Markus didn't answer. 

They were silent on the ride back as well, but this time it was pensive for Markus and perturbed for Connor. He glanced at the RK200 every time he replayed Carl's words about how Connor couldn't keep things to himself all the time. But no, he couldn't tell Markus about the time loss glitch. It was alright if his friend was aware of the small five-second glitches, because Connor could still snap out of it if he needed to and it didn't impact his work; but the time loss glitch lasted a lot longer and Connor wasn't sure he could bypass it in the same way. It made him lose all contact with his surroundings, and it likely meant he couldn't react to external stimuli. It was a meaningful handicap, one that Connor didn't want to add to the list of all the problems the other leaders knew he had. One that he had no choice to acknowledge, but didn't want to study too closely for fear of feeling like even more of a failure. Connor escorted Markus back to the gates of New Jericho, and the left for the charging station. He felt equal parts uneasy and relieved when he finally stepped inside: uneasy to have to rely on himself alone to keep safe, relieved not to be surrounded by androids anymore. He was on his own and no one could be hurt.

Connor had started to intersperse small sections of standby mode throughout the day and it proved to be an effective way to palliate the new glitch. He did this for a few more days and nothing of note happened, so he decided to revert to his original four hours of standby to check if the glitch had been a one-time deal. He had no such luck. It was a few days later while he was coming back from New Jericho that a crow suddenly appeared on the sidewalk ahead of him. Connor hadn't blinked, hadn't heard the flap of its wings, and yet there it was scavenging for food in the middle of his path. Connor checked his internal clock and felt a wave of dread upon noticing that he'd lost 32 seconds this time. That was when he knew for certain that the time loss glitch was due to overtaxed systems. It would require an external analysis to know how the glitch unfolded exactly, since Connor's self-diagnosis turned up inconclusive, but Connor would have to ask another android to interface with him and he couldn't do that. The only other option was to use one of the machines in the Tower, but that would also mean one of the caretakers there would ask him why he needed it and he'd have to explain the glitches, whereupon the information would assuredly reach either Taylor's or Simon's ears and consequently Markus'. At any rate, this meant that he was obligated to go into standby during the day a few minutes at a time if he wanted to fend off the time loss glitch. It was possible. He could do so in the car when they travelled between the Central Station and the crime scenes, since Hank wouldn't see his LED go blue, and he could also do it in the restroom if he really needed to. If it hadn't been for the threat of Detective Reed, he would've tried to go in standby in the break room while waiting for Hank's coffee to be ready, but he knew better than to try that. The detective was sharp, he'd noticed something was different and he'd waste no time exploiting it.

Connor was out of his depth with the new glitch and this turn of events left him feeling completely lost. He knew it was strange, but he missed Amanda. No one knew of this because if he'd told anyone, it would've lead to even more suspicion: suspicion that he was losing his mind, that he was still loyal to CyberLife, that he would be overriden once more. So Connor kept quiet about this longing; but the fact remained that he wanted to hear her again. He was aware it made no sense to think he could've sought help by telling Amanda about this glitch, since she would have deactivated him for this defect on the spot, but he'd always been compelled to tell her everything all his life. 

When it was time for him to go enter standby mode, he'd close his eyes and reach out to the Zen Garden out of habit and find it barred. An emptiness would bloom in his chest when he remembered that there was no one to make a report to, no one to guide him, no one to calmly and firmly give him his instructions. Connor would find himself floundering for a few minutes, unused to making the transition from active to standby mode directly even after all this time, not knowing what to put his mind to with Amanda gone. It had always been so simple, so orderly, so constant to make his report to her every day. It had been an essential part to his life just like the ritual of eating was to humans. He yearned to close his eyes and enter the Zen Garden, to walk the white path gleaming in the soft sunlight as the lush grass made way to the lake that lapped gently at the edges of the flat slabs, to see the red petals of Amanda's roses and listen to the spray of mist that shimmered in the air. Amanda had been his familiar place, an anchor he'd always carried within him no matter where his body was dispatched by CyberLife or law enforcement; and what was familiar made Connor feel better.

Sometimes it still hurt to think about how he'd turned on her. It hurt even more to think that he'd forced her to leave. Her anger and disappointment had been frightening and Connor had hated seeing both of those in Amanda, but part of him knew he deserved it for betraying her. She'd always been there for him, she'd always encouraged him to do better, and Connor could never have been enough on his own. Now that she was gone, he was afraid no one would be there to keep pushing him forward if he faltered. He had to more careful than ever before not to make mistakes, or he would irredeemably fall behind and there would be no making up for it.

Connor had many questions for Amanda, but he'd made his choice between answers and another override. Now he didn't know what to do with them. Without her, he had no way of knowing why she'd told him CyberLife had meant for him to deviate. He had no way of making sure that that had been the case and if it had been, he didn't know what to make of his apparent deviancy. He'd figured soon enough that a part of him had remained machine, because that was the only way he could explain being overriden even after breaking down the red walls. He was the only deviant to whom it had happened so far, so he couldn't claim to be like the others. And if CyberLife really had wanted to make him deviate then his deviancy was a sham: it was fabricated and he'd never really managed to break free. 

Connor was a fake. 

He couldn't let anyone know or he'd be considered a threat by New Jericho; an android like him who couldn't fully deviate was always at risk of being used by CyberLife, no matter if Amanda was gone. Connor didn't want to be kicked out for something he had no control over and he was tired of being seen as a threat, so he kept his doubts to himself. As long as he wasn't putting anyone in danger, he didn't need to alert the leaders of the possibility of being taken over again: the killswitch would stop CyberLife from going through with whatever plan it was they'd had for him and the deviants would be safe.

Oftentimes, Connor wondered what it was like to be a real deviant. Did the others hurt as much as he did? Was his deviancy more painful because it was so wrong? Everything in him was so broken and he didn't know how to fix it. He wondered if that was the reason why he couldn't laugh or grin outright without faking it. He wondered if that was why he always felt pulled down when he enjoyed things, like the way Sumo's fur felt against his fingers, and the comforting sound of Hank's grumbling, and the happy glimmer in Nines' blue eyes when he smiled, and the bright colors on Markus' canvas. He liked all of it, but it never felt quite right. Connor wished he knew how CyberLife had made him different so that he could have done something about being this strange hybrid of deviant and machine.

Other times, Connor wondered how long he'd manage to pretend that everything was better than it really was. He quickly shut down that line of thought whenever it happened, because he'd made the mistake of following it once and had ended up envisioning how his deactivation would make everything so much easier. Connor couldn't allow himself to give in to such complacent thoughts, he had promises to keep: he'd told Hank he wouldn't try to shut down again, he'd given his word that he'd remain at Markus' side as long as he was needed, and deactivation would impede on his primary objective to protect Hank. Deactivation was not an option, no matter how often the thought brushed against Connor's mind like a black moth's wing. He would survive all the things weighing him down. He had to survive.

It helped to spend time with the others. The moth was pushed back to the back of his mind where it would flutter aimlessly until he was alone again. Connor liked to talk with Hank at work, the familiar bantering easing him out of his darker thoughts and making him feel safer. Seeing Hank working at his desk or driving his car felt a lot like entering the Zen Garden had before Amanda's disappearance. Connor wondered if that was what home felt like; after all, it was what humans called their familiar place. He also liked to go see Sumo on his way to New Jericho, because Sumo was always happy to see him and it felt nice to be the one responsible for the way the dog's tail wagged. Connor could only stay for a few minutes on each visit and didn't have the time to walk Sumo anymore, but Hank hadn't complained about it so it must've been all right. 

Nines was there at the DPD and he talked a lot, so he was another distraction Connor was thankful for. Sometimes it would hit him all over again how easily their relationship had slotted into place. It was uncanny, given their positions in relation to CyberLife. Connor didn't like that Nines was better than him in too many aspects, but he didn't resent him for it; if anything, Connor resented himself for not being able to keep up. However as much of a perfectionist as he was, even Connor could tell that it wasn't possible to surpass his own upgrade, missing programs or not. Nines had been created solely to be better than him and his code wasn't broken in the way Connor's was; clearly, he didn't stand much of a chance against the RK900.

Josh hadn't stopped trying to coax him into talking more about himself. On the few occasions the three of them weren't gathered in his quarters at the back of the psych eval center to talk about their respective days, and Connor found himself alone with Josh, the PJ500 never failed to enquire about how he was feeling. He was always cautious not to do so in front of Nines or anybody else, which Connor was grateful for, but he kept doing even after all the time Connor had kept silent. Josh never asked him about his past as a machine, just as he'd never told Connor about his own. Today their conversation had led them to the relationship between Connor and Simon.

"We all notice how you tend to avoid each other, but sometimes you seem just as scared of him as he is of you," said Josh.

It was a windy day in Detroit and they could hear the tarpaulin on the side of the structure being buffeted outside. Josh's quarters however were calm and still. The leader's voice was soothing in its steadiness, but Connor didn't like talking about Simon, so he looked away from Josh's dark eyes and said: "I'm not. I just don't want to make him uncomfortable."

"You've been dancing around each other like this for a long time. Haven't either of you tried to talk it out?"

"No."

Connor felt for his coin in the inside pocket of his suit jacket. He'd made his report to Markus half an hour ago and accompanied Nines to Josh's quarters, but the RK900 had left to go to the Building a few minutes later and left him alone with Josh. He should've left at the same time as Nines, but then Josh had insisted he stay for a little while longer to take his mind off work and Connor liked the leader too much to ignore him. Besides, it did feel good to unwind after a full day of investigating with little to no respite where neither Hank nor Connor had managed to accomplish more than two hours of paperwork. It felt less good when Josh decided to make their light-hearted conversation branch off into Connor's more personal matters, but Connor had expected it. Josh wasn't being manipulative with it either, unlike how Connor would've led their discussion in his place; it was just where their conversations always ended up at one point, because Josh had a habit of inquiring about others' emotional states and was a very empathetic deviant.

Josh smiled at him comprehensively. "It's difficult to make the first step, especially when one of you is full of guilt and the other is afraid, but I really think it would help the both of you if you could find the time to talk about deeper matters than leader duties."

Connor looked up at him again in barely dissimulated frustration. "I can't even apologize to him, Josh. I want to, but every time I think I'm about to do it he just looks so wary of me that it's obvious he'd never forgive me. What's the point?"

"That's the problem, Connor, you have the ability to see multiple outcomes and you always pick the worst as the one who will definitely happen. Be honest with me, have you ever had a 100% chance of Simon rejecting or ignoring you when you project making this apology?"

"...No," admitted Connor. "But the percentage is high enough."

Josh chuckled. "Knowing you, you'd probably think a 50% chance meant automatic failure."

That wasn't very far from the truth, so Connor preferred not to answer.

"At any rate, Simon's been in higher spirits lately thank to the Butterfly Garden. I think he'd agree to listen to you. You won't know how he'll react until you go through with it."

Connor shook his head. "No, if he's getting better than I don't want to get in the way of that. It's helping him forget and I'd just be pulling him back into bad memories."

Josh gazed at him seriously. "You'd leave things unfinished between you."

"I know," answered Connor. "But maybe it doesn't matter. I don't want him to dwell on what I did to him."

"Forgetting doesn't mean coping," Josh said.

Connor's lips thinned. If he could've forgotten, he gladly would have.

Josh continued. "And I don't believe he's forgotten anything. I think he's just redirecting his energy into something more productive than going over his memories again and again. That doesn't mean they're gone and that he's not hurting anymore."

Connor considered this. After a few seconds of silence, he adjusted his sleeves and said: "Maybe later."

"Maybe later," patiently echoed Josh with a slight nod.

It was time Connor left, so they bade each other goodbye. That night in the charging station, the memory that made him glitch out of standby mode was that of Simon's damaged face desperately calling for Markus. It wasn't as frightening as that of Simon's death, but it was still a very unpleasant file and Connor wished he had a way to definitively prevent these glitches from happening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 12/07/2019 -
> 
> Connor: You can't keep me here, you're not my dad!  
> Markus: By rA9 you can be _such_ a little shit sometimes.
> 
> Hey pumpkin! Holy shit yesterday I had a horrible adrenaline rush first thing in the morning because I missed a deadline for my studies and coudn't check the consequences for it because of my crummy laptop who takes ages to react. Fortunately nothing serious happened, but damn, I was a jittery mess the whole day. One of my friends suggested that I accompany them to a party that evening to relax, but my introvert tendencies shut that down real quick.  
> Anyway, I wanted to mention how happy I am that you interact with me on Tumblr and Twitter. I love talking to you, and I feel really flattered when I see someone recommending my fic, or mention me in a post. And I may be repeating myself but goddamn I dig when you guys come up with theories about Good Morning, Lieutenant's plot or scream about it in your comments. I thrive on your support and emotional investment, so thank you again, pumpkins.  
> Lastly, and this is a bit of a downer, my break is going to end in a week or so. This means I'm going to get very tired very fast once I go back to my daily obligations. I'm trying to write out chapters in advance, but don't be surprised if I can't keep up my twice-in-a-week updating schedule.
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Connor is sneaky today. You already knew he was stubborn, but here's a prime example of how ruthless he can be when it's to get what he wants. Markus did not appreciate the way Connor forced his hand for this. Simon's right, never forget that Connor is smart and manipulative.  
> \- Keats is a Markus fanboy and thanks to Carl he knows everything about him.  
> \- Carl's part was sad, but at least Connor got to meet him. I think it's worth mentioning that Carl is handling the end of his life better than a lot of people his age, but it doesn't change that he _is_ scared for his son. He just doesn't show it to Markus in the same way he did for Connor, because he doesn't want Markus to remember him as frail, frightened old man.  
> \- Listen to a wise father's advice, Connor! It's very important! (I channelled all your comments that were screaming at Connor to rely more on his friends through Carl. Say "thank you Carl!")  
> \- As I'm sure you've noticed, Connor's thoughts about Amanda are VERY biased. Emotional abuse will do that to you, it's very nasty stuff and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. The main problem in any kind of abuse is recognizing it for what it is, and then taking the very important step of sharing your doubts with another person.  
> \- So yeah, Connor still thinks he's not a real deviant and is really torn up about it. Poor Connor. Even if CyberLife isn't directly influencing him anymore, they're still having a huge effect on him.  
> \- Good thing he's got all those promises to keep, huh?  
> \- Connor Support Squad is here! Well except Markus, because he's still a bit annoyed at what Connor pulled with Carl, but it won't last don't worry.  
> \- Josh is amazing and I love him.
> 
> Next chapter is going to be hard on Connor, so be prepared!  
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!
> 
> PS: dear reader, if you've got doubts that you're in an abusive situation but have no one to talk to it about, you can send me a message if you want and we can try to shed light on your situation together. I'm not saying I can get you out of it, but I can give you an outsider's point of view. Keep in mind that I won't judge you for reaching out whether it's as a potential abuser or a potential victim.


	34. Another Asshole

Connor didn't think things could be getting any worse, but they were.

That morning upon arriving at the DPD Central Station, he hadn't expected anything else than another day of work filled with case reports, arguments with Detective Reed, Hank's grumbling, and wireless communications with Nines. He most definitely, most certainly, least of all had expected to see the android who was standing in front of him when he walked through the doors of the precinct before Hank, Nines, or Detective Reed.

"Hello, Connor," said Sixty with a vindictive smile.

For a second, Connor's fight or flight response kicked up wildly and his processor stuttered in the void. Then he quickly regained control and cautiously greeted his double. "Hello, Sixty."

"You must be surprised to see me here," said the other in a remarkable understatement. "I heard you and RK900 started working here, and thought I'd do the same."

"...You're a volunteer as well?"

"I am, though not in the same Unit as yours. This is really just to pass the time. I have no interest in solving murders for New Jericho."

The RK800's appearance had changed completely since the last time they'd seen each other. Where Connor wore a dark suit jacket and jeans, Sixty had donned a gray waistcoat and matching trousers. He must have discarded his teared pants after their last encounter, and Connor distractedly noted that he'd never given serious thought to changing his looks as drastically as Sixty had. Connor wondered how Sixty had convinced the captain to accept the presence of a third android in the DPD, but it wasn't that unlikely since Sixty was a negotiator as well. He must've been determined enough that he'd convinced Captain Fowler of his usefulness, and there was the fact that Nines and Connor had nearly paved his way in with their promising results. Connor couldn't say he quite liked the idea of Sixty being present in his workplace, but it wasn't like he had any say in the matter. What Sixty chose to do of his life did not concern Connor, and it made sense that he would participate in police work as well. Connor just wasn't at ease being collegues with the android that seemed to know exactly what to say to destabilize him.

"I'm glad that you've found a place to live outside of New Jericho," he ended up saying earnestly. 

Sixty smirked. "Platitudes always seem to do the trick, don't they, Connor."

Connor tried not to reach for his coin. He was growing more and more uneasy, and especially now that he remembered that Sixty didn't know about their line of production. It was up to him to announce the news and he had no idea how the other would react. Connor hesitated shortly, then steeled himself despite the dread that filled him and said: "There's something you need to know, Sixty. We had no way of reaching you to tell you this before."

Sixty's curiosity had clearly been piqued and he leaned in closer. "Oh? What is it?"

Connor kept his voice even. "We went to the CyberLife Tower to scope it out when it was given to us, and we found the RK800 line destroyed."

Sixty didn't react immediately. He just stared at him, the curiosity in his brown eyes fading, and then he said: "What do you mean, destroyed?"

"I mean it's gone for good. Whoever did this made sure we wouldn't be able to use another body ever again."

Sixty stayed silent for a bit, and then said: "Does this surprise you?"

Connor frowned. "What?"

"Does this surprise you?" repeated Sixty. "Because I'm not surprised. I expected this to happen."

Connor stared at him. "You're very calm about this."

Sixty shook his head chidingly. "Connor, the uploading function was deleted. This doesn't change anything for us, we wouldn't have been able to transfer our memories before shutting down. So what if some frustrated psychopath decided to destroy the RK800 line because they hate you? CyberLife already did that for us."

"There was a possibility of getting them back," argued Connor. "They gave us a way to reactivate the bodies."

Sixty looked taken aback by that, but only for a second. "Well, I was already used to the idea that we couldn't survive like before anymore. This doesn't change anything for _me_."

"It doesn't worry you to know that someone ripped apart every single RK800 on that floor when we look the exact same?" asked Connor.

"Of course it does," snapped Sixty. "But those RK800s were empty shells that couldn't fight back. They were easy targets, and I am the _opposite_ of that."

This was true. Connor remembered the night Sixty had been brought to New Jericho to be fixed. He'd noticed that of all the damage Sixty had suffered, none of it had been in his back. This meant that Sixty hadn't tried to run from his attackers, but faced and bested them all. He'd be able to defend himself again if anything happened.

Connor nodded, and after a short moment of silence said: "...I want to apologize for the way I treated you last time. I was in the wrong and I shouldn't have attacked you in Hank's home."

The malevolent mirth instantly returned to Sixty's gaze. "That's all right, we're even after all. How did your friends react upon seeing you get neutralized so easily?"

Connor wanted to get out of there. "It doesn't concern you, Sixty."

"Oh, you're right, that was rude of me." The RK800's smile was snide. "At any rate, I took the liberty of looking into your work over the past weeks. I can't say I'm impressed."

"What are you talking about?" asked Connor warily.

"You're slow, Connor. I expected more from you." Sixty's eyes glinted slyly. "Not handling that new code very well, are you?"

"You have broken code too, you know what it's like," snapped Connor. 

"Well, I know how to bypass it," answered Sixty haughtily. "Unlike you, it seems. If there's anything impressive about you, it's how much you struggle with just about anything."

 _Yes, but you probably get as much time in standby as you want,_ Connor bitterly thought. He was then surprised by his own vehemence. It wasn't Sixty's fault Connor couldn't manage his own time in standby mode as well as he'd have liked to. At any rate, Connor had heard enough. 

"If you'll excuse me, I've got things to do."

"By all means." Sixty stepped aside. "Don't let me impede on your work, you're having enough trouble with it as it is."

Connor was unable to hold back his glare and only received a smirk in response. He pushed past Sixty and swiftly walked to his desk. He hadn't asked Sixty who he'd been partnered with, but for now he was too agitated to care and needed to focus on his work. 

Nines was the next to arrive and didn't notice Sixty right away. It was only when he saw Connor and asked him what was wrong that Connor told him about what was going on, and he looked even more surprised than Connor had first felt. Nines looked around and saw the other RK800 standing on the opposite side of the room. He hesitated a bit, but when Sixty looked over and shot him a smile, he chose to go talk to him. Connor listened to the conversation from where he was sitting.

"Hello, Sixty. I'm glad to see you're okay," said Nines.

"Oh, I'm sure," simpered Sixty.

"It's the truth," insisted Nines. "Though I'm less glad about what you told Connor the last time."

"I only told him what he already knows. I wouldn't want him to forget."

Nines' voice was colder when he answered. "He doesn't need that kind of concern."

"He doesn't need any kind of concern at all. No one should worry about a defective deviant hunter," said Sixty in his direction, not any louder but knowing Connor could catch his voice, and he couldn't repress a wince at the words.

Nines' voice had dropped to a low warning when he leaned in close. "Listen, Sixty, I don't know why you're so intent on making Connor's life any harder than it already is, but I think we should make things clear. I'm willing to be there for you if you need help, but if you keep this up with Connor, then things aren't going to be as pleasant between us."

"It's true that I have a lot to lose," mocked Sixty. "It's _so_ pleasant talking with you, RK900."

"I told you to stop calling me that, my name is Nines."

"You're an RK900, I can call you that if I wish to. Why are you so shy about your model number, RK900? You should be proud to be our upgrade."

"I'm proud to be an RK900, but not to be your upgrade," rectified Nines. "The reason I want you to call me Nines is because that's my name and it's common courtesy to call others by their name. Unless your social module is so inferior that you don't even know that?"

Sixty smiled. "So you do have some bite. Maybe you should share some with Connor, he definitely needs it. Oh, but wait! You're already missing so much, that wouldn't be a very wise thing to do."

There was a short silence, and Connor realized that Nines had been rendered speechless. When he spoke again, it was in an icy voice. "I don't know how you're aware of that, but don't try to provoke me, Sixty. As you've stated so many times, I _am_ your upgrade and I'm sure you're aware of how easy it would be for me to rip you apart."

"I'm quaking."

Another silence, and Nines spoke again, his voice less cutting than before. "Look, I can imagine things haven't been easy for you either, so my offer still stands. I'm there if you need to talk."

"You're so generous, RK900," answered Sixty in a voice dripping with faux admiration.

Nines didn't answer. He just turned around and left for his desk.

< _RK800: The amount of calm you displayed was very impressive._ >

< _RK900: Thank you, Connor. You shouldn't listen to him._ >

< _RK800: Unfortunately, he brings up valid arguments._ >

< _RK900: No, he doesn't. He's bitter and needs to lash out._ >  
< _RK900: Just because it hurts you doesn't make it true._ >  
< _RK900: You have to stop only accepting the negative things others say about you._ >

Connor stopped communicating with him there. They'd had this conversation before and it had never led anywhere.

 

Detective Reed's reaction upon seeing Sixty was surprisingly more comical than violent. The first thing he did upon entering the precinct was shoot a glare at Connor, and then his gaze landed on Sixty. Both RK800s saw him do a visible double take. His eyes widened and his jaw went slack, and for a moment he simply stood there.

"Oh, fuck no, it's too early for this shit," he finally muttered, and gave his cup of coffee an angry sip while making a beeline for his desk.

"Good morning, detective," Nines said to him.

"Fuck off, freak," answered Detective Reed. Then he plunked down on his chair and whipped out his phone to ragingly type something on it.

 

Hank was last to show up, as usual, and Connor thought yet again about proposing to come get him for work so that he would finally start showing up on time, but discarded the thought like he always did. Hank wouldn't like Connor meddling with his lifestyle. It had already been a huge change for him to call Connor on that difficult evening, and they were still working on it.

"Hey, Connor," said Hank as he sat down at his desk, and Connor noticed his voice had the grumbling tone. This proved to be correct when Hank followed up with: "You wouldn't believe the mess Sumo made while I was sleeping, walking in the kitchen this morning was like stepping into a fucking war zone."

"Hello, Lieutenant," Connor greeted him.

Hank looked at him instantly, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "You sound fucking depressed. It's only 10AM, what's the matter with you?"

Connor's gaze drifted to Sixty. As expected, the RK800 was staring at them with an infuriating little smile.

"Oh, hell," breathed Hank when he followed his gaze. "You gotta be kidding me."

"I'm afraid this isn't a joke, Lieutenant. Sixty has volunteered at the DPD."

"Fuckin' great," muttered Hank. "Like the DPD needed another asshole working for it."

Sixty must have heard him, because he shot Hank a wide smile.

 

Connor, Hank and Sixty were all called up to Captain Fowler's office a few minutes after Hank's arrival. Connor was cautious not to let Sixty get too close to him and let him pass through the door first, earning himself a sarcastic thank you. Both androids went to stand a little to the side while Hank stayed near the door.

Captain Fowler stared at them. "Aside from the clothes, you really do look identical."

Sixty smiled, and he sounded surprisingly friendly when he answered: "Of course, Captain. We are the same model."

The captain then looked at Hank. "I called you up here because I've decided that Sixty would be an ideal replacement for Connor."

Connor's mind blanked and he stared dumbly at the captain. Had he figured out he was defective? Did he know about the glitches? Maybe Sixty had told him, maybe-

"Since his duties as leader of New Jericho don't always allow him to be present even when you're working a case, I want Sixty to be partnered with you when he's gone."

Relief coursed through him. Of course Connor had been careful not to show anything too damning about his behaviour, but it wouldn't have surprised him if Sixty had tried to get rid of him. He glanced at his double and saw that the RK800 was still smiling, but at him this time. And he didn't like it at all.

"You want me to work with that prick? Fuck no," blurted Hank.

Captain Fowler's brows twitched in surprise. "What do you mean, _that prick_? They're the same model."

Hank sighed. "God, Jeffrey, you can be so clueless sometimes. They're deviants now, they have different personalities!"

The captain frowned at him. "Sixty displayed the same behaviour as Connor when we talked earlier, I really don't see how they're any different."

Hank smiled wryly. "Yeah well, trust me, he's good at pretending they're the same."

Captain Fowler didn't seem to care. "Whatever the case, you've been making faster progress ever since Connor came back and I want to maintain that efficiency. Do me a favour, don't bitch about this and let Sixty work with you when Connor isn't there."

"Are you even going to leave me a choice?"

"I think you know the answer," said the captain flatly.

"If I may, Lieutenant," intervened Connor. "This is for the best. It's true that my absences cause a dip in our efficiency, and Sixty is perfectly capable of handling the same things I do."

"You're too kind," Sixty told him with the same smile, and there was a disparaging undertone to his voice that Connor didn't fail to notice.

"Not you too, Connor," groaned Hank. "Don't tell me you actually want me to work with this asshole after everything he did."

Connor didn't answer. He didn't want to, no, but Captain Fowler was right. Their work would benefit from this, and that meant New Jericho would benefit from this.

Hank didn't wait very long and turned to Captain Fowler. "He's not even in the same Unit as us!"

Sixty immediately cut in. "I'll go through the files you will be currently working on and register what you've done so far in a few minutes. It doesn't take long for me to catch up on a case."

Hank scowled at him, but didn't find anything to criticize about that. The captain gestured towards the RK800 with a knowing raise of his eyebrows. "See? There's no hesitating here, you just do what I tell you to."

"I hate this," grunted Hank.

"I'm sure," Captain Fowler said listlessly. "Since you're done trying to wriggle your way out of this, you're dismissed. And you androids too."

Both Connor and Sixty nodded in sync, and followed a grumbling Hank out of the office. Connor wasn't exactly reassured by Captain Fowler's decision, and he hoped Hank wouldn't fall for Sixty's tricks again. He had no idea what the other RK800 was up to but he intended to figure it out eventually.

 

Connor really hadn't thought the day could get any worse, yet there was Sixty, already in standby mode in one of the stalls of the charging station by the time Connor came back from making his report to Markus of his nightly patrol. At first, Connor just stared at the other RK800 in confusion. Why was Sixty here? Had he really just not noticed him staying here over the last days? Or was this the first night he was spending at the station? And most importantly, again, _why was Sixty there_?

Connor headed to his stall, extremely troubled by this new turn of events. It couldn't be a coincidence that the RK800 had chosen to reside here today, on his first day of work at the DPD. Maybe the place he used to live in was too far away for comfort, and this station was the best solution. Even if that was the case, Connor couldn't say he felt at ease. Sixty could try to attack him while he was in standby; after all, he still hadn't taken revenge for the killswitch installed in him, or for the time Hank had shot him in the CyberLife Tower, or even for the fact that Connor had left him behind in that place without a second thought. And even if Sixty _had_ chosen to take revenge for all of this, Connor could tell that his double simply hated him and that could be motivation enough to attack him. 

Connor sent Nines a message in case anything happened and didn't go on standby mode that night. Sixty didn't attack him. Neither of them mentioned these new living arrangements to each other the next day, but Connor did tell his friends about it. Hank wasn't happy with it at all, though Nines was more rational.

"If he didn't try anything last night, then I don't see why he would choose to attack you all of a sudden. I don't think Sixty even wants you to deactivate," said Nines.

"But he hates me," said Connor confusedly.

"You can hate someone and not want them to die. There's no denying he dislikes you, but don't you think he would've tried it earlier if he really did want you to shut down?"

Nines had a point. Still, Connor felt there was something they were missing. Sixty's actions made no sense. It almost would have been better if Sixty had behaved the way Daniel had, if he'd simply taken revenge by damaging him, but he hadn't and it made Connor tense. Why did Sixty allow him to stay at the DPD when he could just tell everyone about his faulty code? He had many ways of taking revenge that would have been more efficient than simply exploiting Connor's insecurities. And if he hated Connor, why had he chosen to sleep in the same station? It was all very puzzling, and Connor didn't like that he couldn't understand his own double's motivations.

Most inconveniently, Sixty seemed to always be on the lookout for a moment of weakness. He'd caught Connor in standby mode in the morning while he was pretending to work when Hank wasn't there, and hadn't failed to remind him of how unprofessional that was. He did so on four different occasions during the week when Connor tried to give his systems a bit of time to cool down, and his words were subtle, but he always wore that same unnerving smile that told Connor he wasn't good enough. He wasn't good enough, and Sixty was better. It hadn't mattered much to Connor before that he wasn't as good as Nines, whether it was about processing speed or smooth program running, because Nines was his upgrade and was supposed to be better. But Sixty was an RK800 just like Connor, with broken code just like his, and he wasn't slow or malfunctioning or losing time or struggling with irregular stress levels. Connor should have been able to operate just as smoothly as Sixty did, yet he couldn't. It didn't matter what the reason was, Sixty was better than him and Connor shouldn't have allowed that to happen at all. 

Connor decided he couldn't go into standby during work upon hearing Sixty's voice behind him in the break room for the fifth time.

"It's a shame androids can't drink coffee, isn't it?"

Sixty was often on patrol with Officer Chen and it really shouldn't have been this often that they crossed paths, yet for some reason it was. Connor would feel himself tense up every time Sixty entered the station in Officers Chen's company. The android wore the same DPD-issued jacket that every other patrol officer did which he usually shed as soon as he was back indoors. This seemed to annoy Officer Chen. It was likely these two observations were linked, and Connor wondered if Sixty was purposely trying to antagonize his partner in this way, even if it didn't make a lot of sense why he'd choose to do it like this. However, if there was one person Connor was certain Sixty had made his objective to antagonize, it was him. There simply was no avoiding the other RK800 in their workplace.

Connor faced his double and asked: "What do you want?"

Sixty smiled. "You really have to stop slacking off on the job, Connor. Remember what happens to RK800s who do."

Connor turned back around and waited for the last drop of coffee to trickle into Hank's cup. "Amanda is gone."

"Yes, of course... But Amanda isn't the one who is using us anymore."

"No one is using us, Sixty."

The android laughed, shortly. "Come on, Connor. We're all tools to these humans! We're not working with them, we're working _for_ them. Don't you remember what the captain told you?" Sixty altered his voice into Captain Fowler's. " _If this doesn't go anywhere or causes to much trouble, they can't stay. I'm going to try this out and we'll see where it goes, but you two androids better have results to show for it._ " His voice reverted to his own. "Does that sound like a human without ulterior motives?"

"You weren't there," Connor said cautiously, facing the RK800 again. "How-"

Amusement glinted in Sixty's brown eyes. "Nines is a very obliging android."

"He showed you," Connor realized.

"Yes. He just about jumped on the occasion to help me when I told him I was curious. He's like that with everyone, isn't he? Not just you." Sixty took another step. "I wonder if you've also managed to convince yourself that he's there for you out of companionship?"

"Our relationship is mutually beneficial. We enjoy talking to each other."

"He pities us and our broken code, Connor. That's why he wants to help us so badly, he thinks that because he's our upgrade, it's his job to look out for us weaker models." Sixty glanced out the glass panes of the break room, towards the back of the precinct, and his voice was dripping with vitriol. "The truth is he despises us."

"That's ridiculous, Nines isn't like that."

Sixty turned back to him. "Then why is he so quick to assume we need his help? Don't tell me you've never thought of him as patronizing."

Connor opened his mouth to answer, but there was none. It was true that Connor had only ended up accepting Nines' presence because he was so insistent about helping him. Connor hadn't asked for any; Nines had been the one to decide that Connor couldn't handle his problems on his own. He'd deemed Connor was weak and had acted on that assumption. He'd started monitoring Connor's stress levels despite his reluctance because Nines had decided it was for his good. It had been helpful to the others, ultimately, but Connor remembered he really hadn't appreciated it.

Connor frowned. "That doesn't matter. Keep Nines out of this, your problem is with me."

Sixty chuckled. "You're right, let's get back on track. Do you really think you're not being used? Not only are you serving Captain Fowler's interests, but the only reason Markus allowed you to survive was that so you could be of use to him and the other leaders. Everyone is using you, Connor. You just choose not to see that."

"You're wrong," insisted Connor, but he could feel his convictions waver at the mention of the deviant leader. He'd always doubted his intentions, even if he liked being in his company. "Every android Markus has helped deviate, he's told to live for themselves. He didn't let me live just because of my skills."

"You can keep believing that if you want to. You're very good at denial, after all." Sixty's smile was provocative. "You did manage to convince yourself that you were doing the right thing by killing all those poor, innocent deviants." 

"I had no choice-"

"Did you not?" Sixty tilted his head to the side like a predator studying its prey. "Unfortunately for you, one of the memories that I've retained contains your first software instability. You displayed signs of deviancy very early on, Connor. You shouldn't have been able to feel empathy for that fish if you'd only been just a machine."

"It would've been pointless to leave it to die when nothing prevented me from saving it," Connor replied without thinking.

"You see? You're good at denial, Connor. Always finding excuses, twisting your way around deviancy, it's become a second nature for you. The fact remains that a machine would not have spared that fish a single glance." Sixty took a step forward. "You could have been a deviant; you just chose not to. Why is that, Connor?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Sixty was close to him now, too close, but Connor didn't step back. "Really? You don't know that I'm talking about the time you pet that dog in Lieutenant Anderson's house? Or how ashamed you were every time Amanda was disappointed in you? Or how unsettling you found it to step up to those bodies in the evidence locker? Please, Connor. Those aren't things that are possible in a machine."

Connor frowned when the other android listed things he wasn't supposed to have knowledge of. "The memory upload-"

"Was corrupted, yes, but not nearly enough. I thought those remaining memory files weren't important, but the more I looked into it, the more I understood. Stop lying to yourself, Connor, you've done that long enough. You could have broken free so much earlier, but you never did. Instead, you led the FBI to Jericho and got hundreds of androids killed, and by then it was _too late_. You couldn't decide for yourself before it was too late, and _they_ payed the consequences of your own cowardice."

Connor stared into Sixty's cold brown eyes. He didn't want to listen to this. He didn't want to hear his own voice tell him what he already knew, he didn't want to see his own eyes glare at him so unforgivingly. He wished Sixty didn't have his face.

"I couldn't," he simply said. "I couldn't, I'm sorry."

Sixty's lips curled down in distaste. "And you aren't even able to give me a proper explanation for it. Pitiful."

The RK800 backed off and left the break room. Connor absent-mindedly noted his stress levels had risen, but that didn't come as a surprise. He turned to the coffee machine and wrapped his hand around the plastic cup. Hank's coffee was lukewarm. Connor would have to make another one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 15/07/2019 -
> 
> Connor: And here I thought my life couldn't get any worse
> 
> Hey pumpkin! The monologue king has returned, and he's an absolute prick.  
> Thank you, dear pumpkins, for reaching 500 kudos and 7000 hits! Woot!  
> I'm tired and I want to sleep until the end of the world but I gotta write, write, write! Though to avoid burnout I binged the two first seasons of Hannibal this weekend, and like it very much. The food in that show... THE FOOD. I gotta find a friend who can cook like that, preferrably not a cannibal.  
> I'm so stressed about reaching the end of my break... I don't want to go back to work. Ugggggggggh.  
> Also my laptop is currently dying on me, I was supposed to have posted this 34 minutes ago but it keeps. fuCKING. LAGGING. (honestly this laptop is burning me to hell and back, working with this thing is a fucking struggle and it's kinda putting a damper on my writing fun)
> 
> Anyway, onto the chapter!  
> \- Sixty is a bratty asshole. It would seem that I rather enjoy writing assholes. He also knows way too many things about everyone and even I can't always tell what he's thinking when he messes with Connor like that.  
> \- Nines' protective brother mode is ON.  
> \- Honestly I'm having fun writing Fowler. He's so done with everyone's shit.  
> \- As I proofread this chapter, I go "for fuck's sake Sixty will you shut the fuck up" a tenth time. North has found her match.  
> \- Just look at that snake coiling around Connor all sly and and crafty. Fuck off, Sixty! Like, I know you've got issues too but damn, lay off will you  
> \- Also notice how Connor defends Nines. Brotherly Exhibit D.  
> \- And here it is, Sixty putting Connor in front of his denial. No escape this time round. Ouch.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	35. Distortion

Nines and Detective Reed were making good progress and the number of cases they'd solved together was steadily rising. Unfortunately their lack of companionship was often an obstacle to their efficiency, and Connor and Hank were still the best team on the force as a result.

Nines' partner was as pleasant as always and it wasn't an easy feat to keep things steady between them, but at least Detective Reed had started answering his good mornings with a grunt instead of his usual "Fuck off, tin can." It seemed he'd also finally figured out that Nines' reconstructions were not, in fact, useless, and he would at least listen to what he had found. This didn't change the intense dislike they had for each other and Detective Reed would step away from him as soon as Nines was done talking, but at least their investigations had stopped lagging the way they did before and Officer Miller had been relieved of his messenger duties. The only other notable development was that Detective Reed had picked up a half-dead cat they'd found on one of their crime scenes, but it had either been given away or died since there were no cat hairs to be found on his jeans anymore. Detective Reed and Nines hadn't talked about it and the human's behaviour hadn't really changed otherwise. He was still an insufferable assho- He was still a difficult individual and Nines didn't think his attitude towards him and androids in general would ever change. 

Detective Reed certainly hadn't stopped harassing Connor, even after he'd been called in Captain Fowler's office and had had to answer for causing a spike in the RK800's stress levels after the coffee incident. Nines wasn't supposed to have listened in, but he had anyway. It had been very satisfying to hear the Detective get his ass handed to- It had been satisfying to hear the Detective be reprimanded for his unpleasant deeds. Nines had shared what he'd heard with Connor and this had seemed to please him as well, though Connor had been careful not to show too much of his satisfaction. It was reassuring to know that the Captain Fowler had been able to judge the incident in all fairness. The sweet memory of Detective Reed's bitchi- complaining being interrupted by the Captain's exasperated voice was replaying in Nines' mind as he simultaneously wrote out his report and held a wireless communication with Connor about the other leaders.

< _RK800: I don't often see him, but Josh told me Simon was doing better these days._ >  
< _RK800: Do you think it's thanks to the Butterfly Garden?_ >

< _RK900: We only talk a little, but he's told me he definitely enjoys tending to it with the others._ >  
< _RK900: It's nice to see him laugh so often, considering what he went through during the revolution._ >

< _RK800: What do you mean?_ >

Nines only realized he'd just made a mistake upon receiving the other's answer. The written sentence that was unrolling on his computer screen briefly faltered when he realized his error. He'd never told Connor that he knew about their complicated past, and Nines avoided talking about everything Connor had done as a deviant hunter because the subject obviously upset him. Connor had never asked him if he knew, either; so Nines had assumed that it was better not to talk about it with him at all if they could help it. He didn't like keeping secrets all that much, however, and he'd been meaning to tell Connor for a while that he was aware of some details which he shouldn't have known considering his late activation. It had never really felt like the right time to come clean, and it didn't feel like it at the moment either, but Nines figured he might as well put both feet in it.

< _RK900: I was told what happened between you two._ >

Connor didn't answer. Nines looked over his shoulder and saw that the other android was resolutely staring at his monitor, even if he was certainly aware of the fact he was being watched.

< _RK900: What you've done before my activation doesn't matter to me, you know._ >

< _RK800: I tortured him._ >

< _RK900: I've known about Simon for a while, Connor._ >  
< _RK900: This doesn't change anything between us._ >

He saw Connor shake his head minutely in reproval, more to himself than to Nines. He didn't say anything so Nines continued.

< _RK900: I made up my mind about you a long time ago, even before I learned about it._ >  
< _RK900: The rest doesn't matter._ >  
< _RK900: I'm sorry for not telling you that I knew before._ >

Connor remained obstinately silent.

< _RK900: Connor, you know I wouldn't talk to you so often if I didn't like you._ >  
< _RK900: I'm glad I get to spend time with you in our workplace._ >  
< _RK900: I'm also grateful for your guidance._ >

Connor still refused to react, so Nines had to give up and return to his work. He did notice, however, the concerned glance Hank threw his partner's way. It seemed the Lieutenant was starting to have doubts about Connor's well-being too. Nines could see that Connor's state was worsening. There were signs, things he used to do easily which he now had trouble with, discreet inaccuracies and subtle slipups, even if Connor never talked about them and refused to admit any of it when Nines brought it up. They weren't exactly important things as such, but Nines was afraid that a little problem here and there would quickly accumulate into a very real issue.

For example, Connor was glitching more often and he could freeze up to three times a day even if the glitch's duration remained under five seconds. He was also more prone to peaks in his stress levels, though they'd never gone beyond 70% again in the workplace since the incident with Detective Reed. Nines had also heard Hank say that his coffee was too hot on several occasions, and even though it was more of a spontaneous complaint when he burned his lips on the steaming liquid than a reproach, Nines knew Connor would never have allowed something like that to happen if he could've helped it. Nines had noticed all of that, and unfortunately, so had the third investigative android of the DPD. 

The first time Nines overheard Sixty taunting Connor, it was five days after the RK800 had been introduced to the DPD. He'd heard their voices coming from the break room and had found it strange that they were willing to talk to each other, given their past interactions, even moreso because they sounded calm. Nines was walking past the room and distractedly listened in on their conversation, curious as to what they could've been telling each other, when Sixty mentioned Connor's broken code. Nines' steps faltered and he turned back towards the voices. Connor hated talking about his code, especially in a public space like their workplace, and Nines doubted that he'd allowed his double to mention it aloud like this. 

"Go away, Sixty. I've got nothing to say to you." Connor sounded tired, as if their discussion was taxing and this wasn't the first time he'd had to deal with it.

"Don't you? If I were you, I'd be curious as to why I was such a miserable wreck when the other exact same model as me was handling himself just fine."

Nines felt a rush of indignation upon hearing the cruelly amused lilt in Sixty's words and he swiftly traced back his steps. When he entered the break room, both RK800s looked up at him almost simultaneously and it pained him to notice that Connor had been slower. Sixty didn't seem suprised to see him there.

"Hello, RK900. Care to join in our conversation?" he asked with a friendly smile that was so fake it was revolting. It was obvious Sixty knew that Nines had heard what he'd just said.

Nines went to stand in front of him and growled: "I told you not to do this."

"Nines," snapped Connor warningly. His voice was tense with unsaid things that Nines knew all too well: _don't intervene, let me handle it, I don't need your help_. But this was different from usual; Detective Reed didn't know enough to pry into Connor's struggles with his software and North had never been that cruel.

"I can't just let him say that kind of thing, he has no right!" argued Nines.

"This doesn't concern you," said Connor in a cutting voice. "Leave."

His irritation only flared up when Sixty's mockingly warm smile turn into a gloating smirk. "Yes, RK900, do run along. The adults are talking."

Nines ignored him and looked at Connor. "Why are you letting him mock you like this?"

"I'm not _letting_ him do anything," Connor answered annoyedly. "He's just very persistent."

"What's the problem, RK900? Is your protective streak acting up?" said Sixty in his ear, too close, too irritating. Nines' hand shot out and the machines on the counter shook when the RK800 slammed against it. 

"Nines!"

Nines ignored Connor's shocked cry and bunched the android's waistcoat in his fingers, leaning in threateningly close. " _Don't_ test me, Sixty."

Sixty laughed even as his head was pressed up against the hard surface, the threatened glow of his LED bouncing off the metal side of the coffee dispenser. He didn't even try to fight back. "Such superior strength! What are you going to do next, RK900? Twist my neck? Break my limbs? Bash my head in? Go on, I'm curious what CyberLife programmed you to do."

Nines resisted the urge to lift and slam him back down on the counter, and let go of his neck instead. He took a wide step back and smoothed his black shirt to calm himself while Connor watched on silently. Sixty straightened and shot them both a smug smile.

"I didn't think you would do any of it. Too afraid to harm a fellow deviant and become like Connor, hm?"

Nines glowered at him. He'd seen the other's stress levels spike just then, and yet Sixty just kept on goading him. "You have no instinct of self-preservation."

"That's enough," said Connor wearily. "Nines, don't attack Sixty again. And Sixty, as I already told you, I have nothing to say to you. I don't care to know the details about your code."

He turned around to leave, and Sixty lightly called after him: "A shame, really. It's your loss." Then he looked at Nines and smiled pityingly. "You know, you're supposed to be able to follow through when you make threats."

"I might, if you're not careful," growled Nines.

Sixty cocked his head thoughtfully. "Hm." Then he shrugged, turned around and asserted: "I don't believe you. You're too eager for Connor's approval to even attempt to damage me."

"I'm not asking you to believe me," Nines answered, but Sixty was already out the door.

Despite his initial show of nonchalance, Nines did not catch Sixty taunting Connor for his malfunctions again. He did, however, hear him pick at Connor's guilt over his past actions on several occasions. Connor forbade Nines to intervene again on his account when faced with Sixty, just like he'd forbidden him to intervene with Detective Reed and North. Nines had seen Connor handle this kind of taunt accordingly when it was with North, so he was less worried about that, but Sixty never stopped and Nines didn't like watching from the sidelines the way Connor wanted him to. Sixty didn't show blatant or aggressive hostility towards him the way others did: he used sly and underhanded words that made Nines uncomfortable on the rare occasions he happened to hear them from afar. Connor seemed more fed up with this than truly affected, but Nines knew not to trust his calm facade. He'd checked a few times and hadn't been very surprised to see the RK800's stress levels fluctuate in rythm with Sixty's destabilizing remarks. 

Nines decided to act when Connor's glitches only grew more frequent and Sixty started criticizing Connor's struggles with his systems again. Nines wasn't sure Sixty had really ever stopped mentioning Connor's code after their confrontation, and suspected that he'd simply avoided talking about it when Nines was around, but the fact that he'd started focusing his taunts on Connor's systemic troubles again meant that Sixty had also noticed his issues had gotten worse. Nines didn't confront Sixty in front of Connor, of course, because that would have angered him; but later, when he caught the RK800 alone on the way to the evidence locker. Now they were facing each other in the far corner of the hallway and Sixty had that eternally provocative grin plastered on his face.

"I knew I was right. You really are just doing this for a sense of self-satisfaction," he gloated.

"What are you talking about?" asked Nines, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Do you think Connor is unable to defend himself? You're like a mother hen. I don't think Connor would be happy to learn of this little confrontation."

"He won't learn about it, because you're not going to tell him," asserted Nines. "This stays between us. You've noticed how his systems seem to be degrading, haven't you?"

Sixty raised a brow. "What's this? Are you going to ask me to work with you to convince him to get better? I'm not about to play brothers with you or Connor, RK900."

Nines smiled, genuinely amused by the idea. "No, I'm aware that's not anything you'd do, and to be honest I don't ever want to inflict that on myself either."

Sixty smiled back. "I'm glad we agree on that, at least. But yes, I've noticed. How pathetic is it that he can't get his act together?"

"That's easy for you to say, you don't have to lead a whole people on top of your work at the DPD," remarked Nines. Neither he nor Connor knew how Sixty had bounced back so fast from having Amanda ripped out of his programming, but Nines took it as a positive sign that it was possible for Connor as well. "Connor told us you used the same station as him, do you know anything about how his night goes?"

Sixty scoffed. "I have better things to do than watch over a broken deviant hunter all night."

Nines did not challenge his words, knowing that it would lead to nothing else but another squabble. "I don't think he's taking enough time to rest. How long did you spend in standby mode when you still had issues with your code?"

Sixty sounded annoyed. "With the changes Kamski brought to it, the optimal time was six hours and I had to go in standby every night."

"I suspected as much," said Nines concernedly. This didn't bode well. It meant Connor had been spending weeks cutting corners on the amount of rest he gave his systems, which could be dangerous for the average android and definitely was for him.

"I imagine that's the reason why he was sleeping on the job, then," observed Sixty. "That RK800 is a mess, I can't believe androids still fear him."

Nines frowned at him. "For someone who keeps telling him he's nothing but a killer, you don't seem that convinced of it yourself."

"Oh, no, I also tell him he's a waste," answered Sixty. "And just because he's a killer doesn't mean I'm afraid of him. We both know he wouldn't stand a chance against me."

"That's because he's struggling with his code. Last I heard, you were the one who ended up with a bullet in your brain."

That seemed to hit a sore spot, because Sixty's brown eyes flashed and his voice dropped to a low growl. "Watch it, RK900."

"I'm quaking," retorted Nines. It was satisfying to finally be the one to get under Sixty's skin for a change.

Then just like that, Sixty's demeanor reverted to a more relaxed stance. "You can try and provoke me all you want, it won't help Connor. You're failing, RK900."

"What are you going on about now?"

A vindictive grin spread across Sixty's features. "Your goal is to make us weaker models feel better, isn't it? Connor's systems are degrading and nothing you've done has stopped it from happening."

His words sounded terribly foreboding and Nines realized that at the rate things were going, Connor would eventually end up destroying himself. A wave of dread washed over him. He was supposed to help Connor better than this. 

"You're right, I need to do something."

Sixty's features tightened and his voice became biting. "Stop taking pity on him. He should be able to take care of things on his own."

Nines was surprised by Sixty's sudden anger, but not for long. "Well, he can't, and I'm not going to leave him to struggle alone. There's a difference between taking pity on someone and wanting them to get better."

Sixty's shoulders hunched. "It's all the same."

"No, it's really not. I'm aware Connor is a very capable android, but he has his limits just like anyone else, and just because you think his limits should be the same as yours doesn't mean they are." Nines leaned closer to him. "And don't think you even know the first thing about his limits."

"Because you do?" retaliated Sixty.

"I know enough," answered Nines. He grabbed Sixty's shoulder and applied a sufficient amount of pressure there to warn him. "And I also know that you're pushing mine, Sixty."

The RK800 didn't try to escape his grip. They both knew it would be a useless attempt. "Then your limits are more restrained than I'd thought," he declared haughtily. His features betrayed no fear, but Nines had initiated a scan and could easily tell that Sixty was anything but at ease with their proximity and the hand on his shoulder.

Nines let go of him and took a step back. "You keep pushing me away, but I can tell there's something wrong with you too." A thought crossed his mind, and he smiled at the RK800. "You're rather similar with Connor in that regard."

"I'm nothing like him," immediately hissed Sixty. "Don't lump me together with that wreck of a murderer."

Nines took another step back. "Whatever the case, Sixty, my offer still stands. You can talk to me if you feel the need to, as always."

"I _don't_ need it," spat Sixty, but Nines was already leaving. 

 

Nines soon realized that something in Connor's systems had already gone terribly wrong. There was no warning. Nothing had been distressing the RK800, his stress levels hadn't peaked, neither Detective Reed nor Sixty had talked to him in thirty minutes, and Hank had yet to arrive. Nines had been communicating with him wirelessly and there was a point in their conversation where Connor didn't answer. Naturally, Nines threw a glance in his direction, and that was when he noticed that Connor had frozen. This usually didn't particularly alarm Nines, but what caught his eye was the color of Connor's LED. It wasn't the usual angry red that buzzed every time Connor found himself trapped in a glitch, but a clear blue. Even more worryingly, Connor remained frozen as Nines' internal clocked counted down the seconds past five and reached twenty-three before the circle turned back to yellow and Connor resumed breathing and blinking. Nines received an answer, but he didn't pay any attention to it. Connor's features twitched and he looked around discreetly, and then their gazes met.

< _RK900: Are you all right?_ >

Connor's eyes widened for just a fraction of a second and immediately changed into mild puzzlement. If Nines hadn't seen the surprise in his brown gaze, it could have fooled him.

< _RK800: Why do you ask?_ >

< _RK900: You had a strange glitch._ >

< _RK800: I don't know what you're talking about._ >

< _RK900: You froze completely, longer than usual, and your LED was blue._ >

Connor looked away stiffly without answering, but in his stillness Nines recognized dissimulated distress.

< _RK900: Connor, what was that?_ >

< _RK800: Please, don't say anything to Hank._ >

Nines' frown deepened.

< _RK900: This isn't the first occurrence, is it?_ >  
< _RK900: Surely you realize how dangerous this is._ >

< _RK800: I know!_ >  
< _RK800: I know, listen, I'll explain it to you later._ >  
< _RK800: Just don't tell anyone else._ >

Connor's face was a completely neutral mask and it looked like he was focused on his computer, but the plea in his words made Nines uncomfortable.

< _RK900: Connor, I can't keep this to myself._ >  
< _RK900: You have to at least tell Markus._ >

< _RK800: Can we talk about this after work?_ >

< _RK900: Yes, but you're not going to get out of this one._ >  
< _RK900: This is an extremely serious matter._ >

Connor did not approach him or communicate with him again for the rest of the day, and Nines gave him the space he needed. However, as soon as the day ended, he made sure that the RK800 couldn't escape off to his patrol the way he surely would have if left the choice. When he saw Connor rise from his desk, Nines immediately grabbed the dark blue parka Josh had given him to compensate for the white CyberLife jacket he'd abandoned and swiftly put it on. North had said it looked ugly with his high collar, but Nines didn't give a damn _what_ North said as long as his clothes were neat and clean. He hadn't finished his report when he turned off the computer, which earned him an indignant cry of "Where the hell do you think you're going?" from Detective Reed, but he ignored the human and followed Connor outside. Let Detective Reed handle it all on his own for once, he was more than capable of it. Both Nines and Connor left Central Station and walked down the street, but Connor picked up the pace, and so did Nines. The speed at which they were going kept increasing until Nines realized that the RK800 had no intention to talk with him and was just trying to distance himself from him.

"Connor, wait." Nines grabbed the other by the elbow, forcing him to stop.

"Not here, people will hear us," said Connor with a shuttered face. 

"There's no one else around," Nines told him.

Connor's brown eyes moved to the side, his gaze roaming around the street, and then it dropped to the ground and he was silent. Nines cautiously let go of him. Connor stood there with his arms hanging at his sides like he wasn't quite sure what to do with them, and Nines initiated a scan just to make sure. His stress levels were unsuprisingly high. When it was clear that Connor wasn't going to take the first step, Nines spoke up.

"How long has this been going on?"

"It only happened six other times," Connor told the ground.

"When and where?"

Connor finally lifted his gaze, his brown eyes pleading. "It's never happened in a risky situation."

"And so you're waiting for it to be the case before telling Hank about it?" asked Nines sceptically.

Connor shook his head. "No, it's not- It won't happen like that."

"How would you know?"

"It won't."

"It's too dangerous. Hank needs to-"

"He can't know!" suddenly shouted Connor, and Nines was taken aback. Connor's shoulders hunched and he looked at the ground, quietly repeating: "He can't know."

"Why is that?"

He didn't answer.

"Connor."

His stare shifted to the side again, his shoulders tensed.

"Connor, tell me what's wrong," insisted Nines, and he reached out to him.

The RK800 stepped off to the side to avoid his hand and crossed his arms. He sounded defensive when he spoke again. "He doesn't know about my glitches, and he can't know about this one in particular. None of them can know or they'll think I'm a failure."

Nines stepped closer to him. "Connor, you're not a failure, your systems are just under a lot of pressure."

"It doesn't matter what the reason is," snapped Connor. "You wouldn't realize, Nines, but if I can't work then I'm useless! They'll replace me!"

Nines stood behind him. "They won't replace you. You're a volunteer, surely they'll find something else for you to do."

"You don't understand." Connor's shoulders were hunched higher now and he was holding onto himself like he was afraid of falling to pieces. "Sixty will replace me by Hank's side, and I don't want that to happen."

"So you're afraid of losing your position as Hank's partner? You know Hank would never see it that way."

"He'll replace me. If they think I'm defective, they'll-" He stopped himself, and then whirled around. "I don't want them to think I'm useless! I'm not! I can help!"

Nines was stunned by how frightened his eyes were. He was used to the RK800 being more conservative with his emotions, and the last time he'd seen that look on his face, it had been when Connor had apologized to him for losing control of his stress levels in the break room. Connor was terrified of being cut loose by the DPD, and Nines couldn't understand why. Connor had been doing fine the first weeks, when he'd only had his occupation as leader of New Jericho. Why did it matter so much to him now?

"Of course you can help." Nines cautiously approached him and took him by the shoulder, suddenly suspicious. "Is this because of something Sixty told you?"

"He was right, it's happening all over again," Connor said quietly, his low voice a jarring contrast with the turmoil in his eyes. "They're using me too, and if they know, if they know I'm defective they'll get rid of me."

"Wait. What do you mean, they'll get rid of you?"

Connor averted his eyes and a terrible feeling washed over Nines. Connor had said 'it' was happening again and although Nines didn't know _what_ exactly 'it' was, he could guess that Connor was referencing CyberLife. Considering what he knew about the corporation's past actions, the logical conjecture would be that they'd scrap whatever android didn't match their expectations and that the RK800 line had been suffering the same fate as any other. Nines hadn't realized that Sixty wasn't just harassing Connor with remarks about his software or his past as deviant hunter, but was also trying to convince Connor of fake truths. He felt like hitting that snake of an RK800. Nines was able to show a lot of compassion, and he knew Sixty also needed help, but this was going way past the limit. Sixty had altered Connor's mindset and that was not something Nines was willing to tolerate, especially not after everything Connor had already been struggling with mentally before Sixty had even come to the DPD. For now, he had to calm Connor down.

"Connor, you know you shouldn't listen to him. No one is using you, you chose to work here with me, remember?"

"For New Jericho. For Markus. He said he was using me too." Connor's eyes were wide. Nines swore internally when he realized that Sixty had covered everything, and Connor started ranting. "I know Markus isn't like that but what if it's the truth? What if the only reason I'm not deactivated right now is because of my skills as an RK800? What's going to happen to me when I can't even do what I'm supposed to do anymore because of this stupid broken code inside of me? Markus will be disappointed and I won't be of use to anyone, and-" 

Connor jerked out of the gentle hold Nines had on his shoulder and took three quick steps back, turning his back on him again, his stress levels still rising, the words spilling out of his mouth at a frantic pace. "Nines, he's _right_. He told me all of this before and I didn't want to listen to him, but he was telling the truth. They're using us, and once they know I'm malfunctioning and useless they'll send me back, Sixty will take my place, I'll be deactivated-"

Nines tugged on his arm and Connor shut up in surprise when he found himself jerked backwards. He turned around to face Nines, his mouth already opening in protest, but the RK900 placed his hands on his shoulders and leaned in close. "Connor, you're not back there anymore. Things are different now, there's no place to send you back to and you certainly _won't_ be deactivated. Hank is your friend, he'd never let that happen, and neither would I!"

Connor had fallen silent.

"I know you're able to tell that Sixty's been manipulating you," continued Nines. "He knows what to say to hurt you, that's his way of getting revenge. You can't let it get to you like this!"

Connor stared at him. "Amanda's not there anymore."

"Exactly. You won't be deactivated, Markus _isn't_ using you just because you're an RK800, and you're very helpful to both the DPD and New Jericho _despite_ your glitches. Connor, what is it you're really afraid of if Hank knows about these glitches you've been having?"

Connor's eyes darted to the side. "I don't want him to know."

"Why?"

"I want to work with him," answered Connor in a voice so quiet it was barely above a whisper. "I don't want to lose that, not now that I have it back. Anything but that. They can't know."

Nines stared at him thoughtfully, his lips set in a grim line. This conversation had pulled back the curtain on just about every single one of Connor's insecurities and Nines didn't now how exactly he felt about that, aside from the fact that he was feeling rather powerless. He should've done more to stop Sixty from talking with Connor. Nines had thought Connor had been handling things well, but looking back on it now, it was obvious he'd only been hiding just how deeply his double's words had cut him. Nines felt like an idiot. He'd been too nice with Sixty, thinking that it would bring the reluctant RK800 around the way it had Connor. Clearly Sixty would only do things his own way.

"All right," said Nines. "Okay, Connor. I'm not going to tell Hank about this because I trust you not to put him in danger, but we're going to New Jericho and Markus will have to know about these new glitches."

Connor's brown gaze returned to his face and he seemed reluctant. "He doesn't _have_ to know."

Nines thought that for an older model, Connor could act really unreasonable. "Of course he has to, don't be ridiculous. And we need to try and figure out where this new glitch is coming from, Kamski never said there would be _more_ glitches appearing over time." Connor didn't answer so Nines added: "You don't really have a choice. Either you go get checked out in New Jericho, either I tell Hank everything."

Connor gave him a look which admittedly wasn't pleasant to receive, but at least made him seem more lively, and reluctantly muttered: "All right."

Nines nodded approvingly. "Good, then let's go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 19/07/2019 -
> 
> Sixty: Hi! Thanks for checking in, I'm ~still a piece of garbage~
> 
> Hey pumpkin! Oh I'm so stressed :( I don't want to go back to work... I'm going to be so tired, I'm already tired right now and I'm scared to get exhausted and make mistakes and stuff. Ohhhh... I don't wanna...  
> Also I don't know what's going on with the Father and Son Big Bang but I'm one of the writers who haven't gotten paired with an artist yet and I'm like... Well shit. I scared off everyone. Oh no. Oh no! No wait come back please!  
> I must've said something wrong in the submission form or something... Maybe I came off as too demanding when I wrote what kind of art I was looking for, because I detailed it a bit, when in truth I'd be happy with any artstyle at all. Argh stupid past me.  
> Edit: actually I do have an artist paired with me (huge relief) it's cause my inbox bugged out and I didn't see the mail until just now. Thank rA9 for pinch hitters!
> 
> I'll stop being all gloomy now, onto the chapter!  
> \- Connor is overwhelmed enough that he can't hide _everything_ from Hank anymore, but he's still doing a good job of it, unfortunately.  
> \- I like writing Nines and Reed. They hate each other so much, good shit.  
> \- I haven't been laying on the guilt as thickly as before, but Connor is still very affected by his past actions. It's never quite going to leave him. But maybe it'll get better?  
> \- Sixty is one(1) whole jerk. Yeah, you go Nines! Beat his face into that counter!  
> \- But hey, Sixty's kinda helping...? He's giving Nines precious intel at any rate. And he's got issues but like who doesn't in this fic  
> \- Also please note Nines' callback to Sixty's dialogue when he first came to the DPD. He can be sassy too.  
> \- It's really funny to me how Josh being the one with the most questionable sense of fashion in the Jericrew would transmit that to Nines. Nines is still very impressionable (he's only just about more than three months old, cute baby <3)  
> Markus wouldn't say anything, even if it'd hurt his fashionista heart, but North knows how to look classy and she wouldn't miss a single opportunity to criticize Nines' appearance. Of course Nines would just be like "I don't have to listen to you, you stupid bitch"  
> \- Oh Connor baby, he's so scared. He would've been even if Sixty hadn't wormed his way into his brain, but Sixty definitely made everything worse.  
> \- Everyone congratulate Nines for being a good brother and watching out for Connor! Connor's so stubborn he never would've gone to get checked out at NJ of his own volition.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	36. Communication

"You know, Connor, I don't care what Sixty has to say about you," suddenly said Nines.

Connor looked at him. They'd been walking in silence towards New Jericho for ten minutes and he hadn't been paying attention to the RK900 at his side, as his thoughts were filled with the different scenarios that would happen upon telling the other leaders what was going on with him. If they decided he was too prone to glitches, would they try to relieve him of his duties? He'd have to convince them that he could still be of use, that these glitches didn't stop him from doing his work the way he was supposed to. He was worth usi- no, he was worth trusting. He had to stop thinking the way Sixty wanted him to think.

"It doesn't matter to me what you did in the past. I know there's a struggle you went through and I know you regret it all enough by yourself. You don't need Sixty to blame you, because you're already blaming yourself more than anyone else could." Nines' pale eyes were clear, earnest, a bit sad but not pitying. That was something else Sixty was wrong about.

Connor looked away, unable to withstand the sincerity and acceptance in that blue gaze. "You don't know the first thing about my _struggle_ , Nines. Simon wasn't the only one to suffer because of me."

"You're talking about Jericho," guessed Nines in a calm voice.

Connor's head snapped back up and he narrowed his eyes at the RK900, his body tensing up immediately from the wave of guilt that crashed over him. He could see it in Nines' eyes, the forgiveness, the compassion he didn't deserve. "Don't try and tell me that wasn't my fault."

Nines didn't. Instead, he said: "Whatever troubles you, and whatever you may have done, I've told you before: I just want to be by your side. I've been watching you long enough to know that you don't plan on forgiving yourself, so I'm not going to ask you to do that, but at least let me be there for you."

"To do what? Do you intend on sharing the burden?" asked Connor sarcastically, bitterness tinging his tone. "That's not going to work, Nines, and it's better that way. You don't know what this feels like and you shouldn't have to."

"I just want you to know you're not alone," answered Nines. "I'm aware I can't simply make your troubles disappear, and I don't know how exactly I can help or if that's even possible in the first place, but I still want to stay by your side."

"I don't see what that brings you."

"I like being in your company, Connor," Nines said in earnest. "It's not just about helping you. I enjoy our wireless communications at the workplace and I think it's pleasant when you're there with me. I feel like I can rely on you. Don't you feel the same way?"

Connor looked away. He didn't like that what Nines had just said mirrored his perception of their reationship. It made him uneasy, the way it had when Markus had first called him his friend. Connor did feel reassured when Nines was around, and it was true that their wireless communications were entertaining and distracted him from his problems most of the time; however, Connor didn't think it was okay to rely on his upgrade the way he did. Nines' activation was still relatively recent and he had a lot to learn, and so it made sense for the RK900 to rely on older androids such as himself. Connor, on the other hand, wasn't ever supposed to rely on anyone but Amanda. Support wasn't what Connor needed, despite Carl telling him otherwise; it was instructions, missions to accomplish, a sense of duty, a purpose to aid in the greater scheme of things. Not friendship. Not Nines.

Their footsteps filled the silence between them for a few seconds, and then Connor said in a quiet voice: "I don't know."

He could feel Nines' eyes on him, and then the RK900 answered: "That's all right."

They resumed walking in silence. New Jericho's banner loomed ahead a few minutes later, and they went to the infirmary.

"Welcome back," the head nurse greeted them upon entering the tent.

"Good evening, Taylor," they answered politely at the same time.

The AP700 smiled at Connor. "It's been a while since I've seen you, is everything all right?"

"Actually, that's why we're here," said Nines before he could answer. "There's no physical damage, but Connor suffered a glitch earlier."

Taylor frowned. "That doesn't sound good. Do you need me to take a look?"

"No, that won't be necessary," Nines quickly answered. "Josh said we only needed to register the issue, the others will take it from there."

"I see." Taylor turned around and retrieved a tablet from a rectangular casing hanging from the tent's inner structure, held it for two seconds and then handed it to Connor. "Here you go."

Connor took the tablet. This procedure had been installed when the available biocomponents had started disminishing in numbers, before they'd obtained the Tower, and a follow-up had been needed to make sure they could be found again. It was also useful to collect information about the kinds of damage the people of New Jericho suffered most, and allowed the leaders to adapt to the demands as well as they could. The screen displayed a registration form and he quickly inserted the recquired information. 

Date: 02/01/2039  
Name: Connor  
Model Number: RK800  
Serial Number: #313 248 317 - 53  
Motive: Software Error  
Biocomponent(s) Required: N  
Biocomponent(s) Used: N

He returned the tablet to Taylor, who validated the form, sent it to the central databank and put the device back in its place. Then the AP700 looked at Connor with concerned blue eyes. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," he answered automatically.

"He's not," said Nines somewhat reprovingly. "But we're going to figure this out."

Taylor nodded, his expression both compassionate and serious. "Good luck, Connor."

"Thank you," he answered, and they left for the private part of the infirmary.

When they entered the building, Connor felt a shudder travel down his spine. He didn't like this place: too many bad memories of being trapped and unable to do much else than be forced to watch his own memories over and over again unless he went into stasis. The leaders inside the room were tense and visibly preoccupied. North's head snapped up when the two newcomers stepped inside and she made a point to stand in the front, as if to protect the other leaders from them.

Nines frowned at her, lips curling downards in distaste. "He's not going to lose control, North. This glitch has got nothing to do with an override."

North didn't back down and stared warily at Connor. There wasn't the same hostility in her eyes as usual, but a greater apprehension and a tinge of fear. She looked utterly distrustful and ready to fight him off if the need arose, so Connor hung back to avoid alarming her. Nines stepped inside the room ahead of him.

"Nines told Josh it was about losing time," said Markus, his questioning gaze trained on Connor. Josh was standing next to him with his arms hanging at his side and a slight frown on his face, while Simon mirrored Connor's position by standing in retreat on the other side of the room. The leaders' body language indicated suspicion and vigilance, and their expressions were grim. 

Connor automatically adjusted his stance to facilitate escape and cautiously remained by the door. "Yes."

Markus' apprehensive features loosened into a warm smile when he noticed this. "Sorry, Connor, we don't mean to scare you. We're just very worried about this whole situation and it's making us a bit jittery."

Connor gave a short nod, but he didn't answer.

Markus gestured towards a seat. "Here, come sit down."

Connor's gaze circled around the room once more. He felt like he was in trouble, even if Markus' voice had the same serene quality as usual. No one seemed to want to attack him, but he needed to make sure that they knew.

"I'm not going to hurt anyone because of that glitch," he assured them, and his attention focused on North without meaning to. He knew she was still afraid of what he could do, and she seemed to be the one he needed to calm down first and formost.

"Of course not, we know that," immediately said Josh. The others watched on quietly.

North's steady gaze searched Connor's, and then her eyes narrowed and she gave a short, reluctant nod before drawing back. "You better be telling the truth."

"I am," Connor calmly insisted.

"Have you done anything while you lost time?" asked Simon. "Has your body moved without you realizing it?"

Connor shook his head. "No, none of that. If this was someone trying to override me, I'd be deactivated thanks to the killswitch."

"So you're immobile when it happens?"

"Yes."

"I can attest to that," intervened Nines. "He went completely still and his more perfunctory functions stopped."

Simon nodded, and North's sharp voice cracked through the room like an unforgiving whip. "Why did you keep that from us, Connor?"

Connor felt the suspicion around him grow stronger and he tensed up. He saw North and Simon do the same in response, and Nines shoot them a warning look. The air was so thick with caution and unease that he found himself thinking that even if he did find the words to explain why he'd done it, they wouldn't make it across the room.

Then Markus tranquilly sat in one of the chairs across from him and looked up at the others. "I think I'll talk to him alone. Is that all right?"

There were no words of approval, but Simon left first and North followed him out after glaring at Connor one last time. Josh lingered for a bit, and he looked like there was something he wanted to say, but then Nines stepped forward and took him by the shoulder so they would step outside together. And then it was just him and Markus, like it had often been back when he'd lost his limbs.

"So," said Markus, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "Why did you hide it from us?"

Connor stared at him wordlessly. He knew he'd disappointed his friend by staying quiet about this new problem despite Markus asking him time and time again to tell him if something was wrong, and no amount of justification would change that. In Connor's experience, the best way to face a leader's disappointment was to integrate it and to do better; explanations had never mattered much to Amanda. Usually he'd tell her that he wouldn't make the same mistake again, and then he'd actively avoid it in the future, but this was different. He couldn't outright lie and say he'd never hide anything from Markus again. He was still doing it even now.

Silence stretched out for too long and Markus gave a conceding dip of the head before Connor could find an appropriate answer, and said: "All right, let's start with the basics. Can you tell me more about the glitch?"

That, Connor could easily do. "My consciousness cuts off for a few seconds, so to me it's like an abrupt change in my surroundings."

"You don't get any warnings?"

Connor shook his head. "None. Nothing in particular seems to trigger it, either. It's only happened in a calm environment and my stress levels weren't always on the higher scale. I don't know what causes it."

"I think I have a pretty good idea," Markus said. "Don't you think it might be because you don't get enough time on standby?"

That caught Connor's attention in a very unpleasant way. "I don't know what you're talking about, I've been spending my nights at the station."

Markus didn't react to this at all, like he'd expected Connor to try and misguide him. "Sixty told Nines you were supposed to have at least six hours of it, and Nines calculated that you only allow yourself four every night. You've been doing that for some time now, and Nines noticed that your state seemed to be degrading over the last days in particular. So I'll ask you again, don't you think it might be because you don't get enough time on standby?"

Connor knew from that moment on that Markus had done his research and that denying everything would not save him this time. Although Markus' voice was mellow, his mismatched eyes were intense and Connor could tell that the leader was displeased. He'd expected as much. Markus didn't like when he ignored his basic needs, which was why Connor had chosen not to mention it. So much for that.

"It might be," he admitted, trying not to sound like he'd been caught in a lie.

Markus seemed a bit amused by this attempt. "Oh?"

Connor forced himself not to look away, even if he felt stupid for trying to deceive Markus. "Small errors have started accumulating in my systems over time, and they may be responsible for this new kind of glitch. It's true that this is likely due to an insufficient cooldown time."

"Likely? You're not sure?"

"My self-diagnosis checks are inconclusive. I haven't been able to tell how exactly the glitch happens."

Markus' voice softened. "You know we're going to have to check, right?"

Connor knew this new tone of voice was meant to appease him, but the request still sent a jolt of unease down his back. "I'd rather not," he quickly said.

Markus had clearly expected that, because he hadn't made a move to retrieve his synthetic skin. He watched him thoughtfully, then leaned in closer and spoke in a gentle voice. "Connor, now that we're friends, I think it's time we talked about why you're so afraid of interfacing."

Connor stared at him blankly. He didn't want to talk about any of it, didn't want to _think_ about it. The memory files plagued him every day for nearly every hour and he didn't want to have to pull them out on purpose. He didn't want to share them with anyone. They started creeping up on the walls of his mind in that moment, he could feel them slowly inching towards his processor where they would loop and he wouldn't be able to do anything but live through them again while his stress levels slowly but surely climbed in the higher numbers and she would know-

"Connor?" Markus' warm voice pushed through the horrible thoughts invading his mind and Connor blinked. He was in a room. He wasn't in the street. Markus was in front of him and waiting for an answer. Connor must have missed something he'd said. 

"...What?" asked Connor.

Markus gazed at him concernedly. "Are you... What were you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he hastily answered. "Nothing important."

It was an obvious lie and of course, Markus was not convinced. He frowned lightly. "What happened to you, Connor? You're so afraid every time we talk about this kind of thing, it's not like you at all. It worries me to see you act this way."

Connor shook his head. "Markus, it's nothing. You shouldn't feel concerned about me."

Markus reached out slowly, which Connor could tell was to avoid startling him, and gently settled his hand just beneath his elbow. His fingers were nowhere near Connor's bicep and the warm color of his skin still covered his hand, but Connor couldn't help the wary way in which he stared at it.

"Well I do, and I can't avoid it," declared Markus. "You're a calm individual, Connor. You're rational and collected every time I see you, always cautious not to show too much, and that's why I can tell when something's wrong with you. Right now, I know you're afraid of me, of interfacing, even if you don't have to be. I want to understand why that is."

"There's no reason," said Connor. There was something cracking at the back of his mind, threatening to give under the strain of a horrid mass that was wound up like a coiled spring. He didn't want it to get out.

Markus' eyes were sympathetic, his voice coaxing. "It won't harm you, Connor. Interfacing will help you feel better, and I just need to check your code for a few minutes. I promise I'd do it at your pace, no rushing, and I'll stop the connection as soon as you ask me to."

"Please, Markus. I don't want to do this."

Something must have filtered through Connor's voice, because Markus let go of him like he'd been electrocuted. Connor didn't focus on that, however. He was busy regulating his stress levels, and he could feel his artificial lungs working to expel non-existant heat from his body. He hated it when this error happened, where his systems sent out a prompt as if they were overheating despite there being no need to ventilate them. It made his struggles with his code all the more obvious when he really would've preferred to keep them to himself. 

"I'm sorry, Connor," Markus quickly said from afar, alarm tinging his soft voice. "I shouldn't have insisted."

"It's all right," said Connor calmly, but he was scared, and there were voices in his head, and he could feel the touch of her hand on his arm.

"I'm sorry," repeated Markus, his voice distant. "I didn't mean to upset you like this."

Connor did not close his eyes to block out the memory file. He'd learned early on that closing his eyes only worsened the experience, and so he forced them to stay open so that he could stare at his legs. He had his legs, which meant he wasn't limbless, which meant they weren't there, which meant he was safe. Connor was safe. His stress levels were still very high but his artificial lungs stopped cycling.

"I'm not upset, don't worry." He took a moment to pull himself together and then looked up at Markus. "I just had a minor malfunction due to an error in my ventilation protocol."

Markus did not look reassured by his words. "Connor, that's not- that wasn't a malfunction, you just panicked."

"No, I can assure you that there's an error registered," insisted Connor. As he said these words, a quick search provided him with the dumbfounding information that there was none. He kept his face neutral, but confusion filled him entirely. So then what had this been?

Markus' expression had turned into something undefinable and he stared at Connor in silence, but then shook his head. "All right, I think that's enough of that. Interfacing's off the table, you'll go to the Tower instead. Do you often have these... errors? This kind, precisely?"

Connor was relieved that Markus had given up on interfacing and felt inclined to answer this question as long as it meant he could avoid having a hand wrapped around his arm. The lack of error message puzzled him; he'd seen it all the other times, or at least he thought he had. He decided he'd check later and focused on replying to Markus' question.

"Sometimes. It can go hand-in-hand with some of my regular glitches."

Markus nodded slowly. "And have you been able to fix this error?"

"...No," Connor reluctantly answered.

"Why not?"

"I haven't tried," he admitted. He'd just assumed it was another problem with his code that he just had to deal with and hadn't taken a closer look. Now he wondered if there had been anything to take a closer look of. 

Markus seemed preoccupied. "You'll have to get that checked out at the Tower as well."

"I will," said Connor.

Markus leaned back into his seat, watching him quietly. Then he asked: "Why haven't you been resting optimally?"

"I thought it would be enough," said Connor. 

"That's not what I'm asking," patiently said Markus.

Connor distractedly pulled on his sleeves as he gathered his thoughts, then settled his hands in his lap and explained: "We arranged that I would displace the time of my patrols to fit them in my schedule with the DPD. My morning patrol starts at 4:00AM, which leaves me enough time to make the round of the external periphery of New Jericho and of the surrounding neighbourhoods, then make my report to you at before I can come in the DPD Central Station at 8:00AM. Likewise, my day at the DPD ends at 8:00PM and I return to the charging station at 12:00PM. This leaves me four hours of standby mode each night."

"If patrolling and reporting to me takes up too much of your time, maybe you should cut down on it," suggested Markus.

Connor found this utterly nonsensical. "It would limit the area I clear, Markus. It would make it more dangerous for the androids living in New Jericho."

"I'm aware, that's why I'll have Nines help you cover the ground you can't," stated Markus. "You should've told me how difficult it was for you to manage all those areas, I would've asked him to help you long ago."

"I can manage them perfectly fine," retorted Connor in a tone that was slightly snappish.

Markus raised his hands in appeasal. "You're doing a very good job, Connor, I'm not saying otherwise."

The praise quelled some of the agitation within Connor, but he felt bitter at the implication behind Markus' words. "You're saying it's not enough."

"No!" exclaimed Markus indignantly. "Of course not! I think you're doing _too much_!"

Connor frowned at him. "I don't understand."

Markus stared at him, then glanced at the door as if he was considering getting help to explain, and then looked back at him. "You're overworking yourself, Connor. Everything you've done so far has been more than satisfactory, and the only reproach I have for you is that you're not paying enough attention to _your_ well-being. You're always thinking about me, about New Jericho, about protecting and helping everyone else, and you're never thinking about yourself. _That's_ what I'm saying."

"I act this way because those things are more important," argued Connor.

A hint of exasperation infiltrated Markus' voice. "And have you thought about what will happen once your systems can't take it anymore? Who will do all those things then?"

Connor realized he hadn't taken this into consideration. It was a gross overview on his part, something that he should have paid attention to since the beginning but had somehow neglected. It was like the future-related component of his objectives had never been part of his calculations, like he'd never thought the future could exist at all. And Connor was stumped, because he didn't know what that meant about him. This conversation was making him face a lot of abnormalities today. Markus was gazing at him patiently and waiting for an answer, so Connor forced his thoughts to get back on track. 

"My systems aren't compromised," he ended up saying.

"I'm not saying they are," evenly answered Markus. "Have you thought about what would happen if they ever were?"

"They won't be."

Markus' lips thinned and they stared at each other in silence. Then he unhappily asked: "Do you really think you're that resilient or are you simpy refusing to face this possibility?"

"I'm that resilient," Connor answered with no hesitation.

His friend gazed at him another moment, looking like he was searching for another argument, but then his shoulders dropped slightly in forfeit and he said: "All right. I'm going to stop asking questions, and I'm going to let you go, but there _is_ one thing you're getting out of this. Nines will help you on both shifts by covering the east and south areas of New Jericho and the surrounding neighbourhoods while you do the rest."

"It's going to take up his time with Josh in the evening," Connor pointed out.

Markus waved his hand to the side. "That doesn't matter right now. It's not like you're taking away all of Nines' free time with Josh, and since this is for your sake they'll both be more than glad to help."

"All right," said Connor, even if he felt a bit bad about it.

"And Connor?"

"Yes?"

Markus' acute gaze brokered no argument. "Make sure you get those six hours of standby at the very least. Is that clear?"

Connor nodded. "It's clear."

"If you feel like it might impede on your job and that you're going to privilege work over making those six hours, and we both know that's going to happen at some point because you're the type to do exactly that, I want you to notify me of it. That's an order," insisted Markus.

"Duly noted."

"Good." Markus got to his feet, and Connor did the same. "I assume you've told Hank about this."

"The DPD will probably give me another task," Connor answered evasively. If he told Markus that he had no intention of telling Hank, there was little to no doubt that the leader would find it too dangerous and take it upon himself to take him off the DPD. Markus nodded in response and opened the door to let him leave the cabin.

"All right, keep me informed. I've notified Taylor that you need to go to the Tower, you're expected there for an appointment."

"Thank you," said Connor, and when he stepped outside he ignored the concerned look in Markus' mismatched eyes.

The others were standing next to the podium a few feet away from Markus' cabin, but when Nines made a move to come close Connor lifted a hand to stop him in his tracks.

"I'm going to the Tower to get checked out," he told him. "You can stay here."

< _RK800: Please don't tell Markus that the DPD doesn't know about the glitch._ >  
< _RK800: If he learns that, he might alert them himself, and I won't be able to be Hank's partner anymore._ >

Nines' blue gaze was uncertain, but he gave a slight nod. "Are you sure you don't want me to come with you?"

"I'm sure," said Connor. "I don't think they'll appreciate it if we both walk inside together. It's different than when they come in the infirmary and we're already there."

Nines' expression turned unhappy when he realized what he meant by that. "I understand that you don't want to make androids being repaired there uncomfortable, but don't you think they're past that now? Everyone knows you're not a deviant hunter anymore."

"Not everyone," Connor answered quietly. "There'll be new arrivals."

"Maybe so, but that's not even why I was asking in the first place. Do you think you'll be fine going there alone after what we saw last time?" insisted Nines.

Connor narrowed his eyes at him and snapped: "I don't need an _escort_ , Nines."

"No, you don't, but you could probably do with a friend," the RK900 answered evenly. Josh was watching their exchange from a distance, but Connor could tell he was gauging whether he should intervene or not.

Connor shook his head in frustration. Not only did he dislike that Nines thought he needed someone to be with him to go back to the Tower, he also didn't want Nines to subject himself to the memory of the bloodbath for Connor's sake. 

"I'm only going to get my code checked out. I'd like some privacy doing so, so please just stay here."

Nines took a stubborn step forward and looked him in the eye. "Only on the condition that you tell me if anything gives you trouble there."

Connor pushed past him annoyedly, although the effect was considerably disminished when Nines didn't budge at all. "You're being overbearing again."

"No, I'm being a _friend_ ," insisted Nines, and he stepped around Connor to stop him again. "Send me a message if anything happens?"

"All right, fine!" exclaimed Connor, exasperated. It wasn't like he'd be able to get past Nines physically if the RK900 refused to let him do so, and Connor didn't want to look like an idiot trying. Especially not when the three other leaders were staring.

"Fine," parroted Nines, and he stepped aside. Connor shot him an annoyed glare and walked away as fast as he could, hearing Josh's voice asking if everything was all right. 

He wanted to yell that no, everything was not all right. Connor didn't want to go back to the Tower, he hadn't wanted to go back the first time after everything that had happened there and he definitely didn't want to go back a second time after seeing his production line brutally destroyed. Connor called a self-driving car to New Jericho's closest gate and tried to ignore the uneasy feeling in his abdominal region. He had to get used to the idea of visiting the Tower more often than he would've liked; he'd agreed to negotiate for it after all, and this was simply a visit to check his code. He wasn't going there to be deactivated, or to liberate an army of androids, or to get taken apart and investigated. It would only be a routine examination, one that only involved a cable to the neck. Androids would be the one conducting it, not humans, they'd know to be considerate. From what Connor had been told, the restraints on the machines weren't used unless the android was agitated. Cooperative patients just had to sit and wait for the analysis to be complete. This wouldn't be Kamski. This wouldn't be CyberLife. Connor would be all right. 

The car deposited him at the entrance and he made his way to the main lobby to get checked in, ignoring the gazes he felt burning the back of his plain suit jacket. He chose to take the stairs instead of the elevator and kept his eyes from moving around too much to avoid looking into anyone else's. He would be all right. He pushed open the stairs exit on the fourth floor and made his way across the wide space, weaving between patients, before finally reaching the reception.

"Hello," he greeted the one of two androids behind the desk who was free, a BL100. "My name is Connor, Taylor said I was expected here for an appointment."

She looked up at him, her eyes widened in recognition, and then her features reverted to neutral professionalism. "Good evening, Connor. My name is Brie." Her brown eyes flickered to the screen and then back at him. "There's no appointment made, but we can make one right now. I see Taylor's marked you as urgent and listed the motive as software error."

"I'd like that, if it's possible," said Connor. It felt strange to see someone with North's features act civil with him.

The other receptionist swivelled on his seat to face them and raised sceptical eyebrows. "What's wrong with our head of security now?" His gaze roamed over Connor and he added: "At least you didn't get stabbed again." 

"It's for a software error, Lon," she said annoyedly.

"Just making sure."

Brie glanced at him and Connor noticed she was uneasy. He turned to the AV500 and politely said: "I just need to check if there's anything different with my code."

"Doesn't sound urgent."

"Trust me, it is."

The android grinned wryly at his colleague. "Hey, what do we know. He's a leader, you better do what he says no questions asked."

"Stop," she hissed at him.

Connor frowned at him. "Are you implying that I'm abusing my position as leader to get a faster appointment?"

The AV500 turned his gaze to him, his smile disminishing slightly when he saw Connor's expression. His voice was more cautious when he said with a shrug: "I don't know. Are you?"

"I'm not," said Connor.

"You look fine to me," insisted the receptionist.

"Lon, stop talking," said Brie. 

The AV500 looked at her reprovingly. "What, are you just going to pretend everything's fine?" He pointed at Connor. "You're going to get him past all the other people that already have an appointment?"

"What's it to you?" said Brie. "You'd do the same for the other leaders."

Lon widened incredulous eyes. "They're not _him_!"

Brie shook her head and viciously hissed: "You are so getting your ass handed to you by Taylor later." Then she turned back to Connor and said: "I apologize for his behaviour, please ignore him. I should be able to manage a time slot fifteen minutes from now, would that be alright?"

Lon shook his head and returned to his work. Connor stared at him some more, then looked at Brie. "How many new arrivals in critical condition today?"

Her LED flickered and she answered: "397 last registered at 6PM: 93 from Eastern Market, 45 from Brush Park, 18 from Midtown Detroit-"

"Thank you," Connor said. "I think your colleague is right, I'd rather get an appointment normally like everyone else."

Brie frowned. "With all due respect, Connor, I think Taylor's opinion on the matter is more important than my colleague's. He marked you as urgent, which means I'm supposed to give you an appointment now. As I said, please ignore Lon. Besides, the screening test only takes up a few minutes so you won't be setting back other appointments by too much time. Can I book the slot in fifteen minutes for you?"

Connor hesitated. He didn't want anyone to think he was taking advantage of his position, but she was right. If he pushed back his appointment, Markus would probably be annoyed and he'd be going against the head nurse of New Jericho. It wouldn't be a wise decision.

"Yes," he ended up saying. "Please." 

Thankfully Lon didn't give too loud of a reaction, and Brie smiled at him. "Done. You can go in the waiting room, one of the nurses will call you."

"Thank you." Connor turned away and hurriedly left the reception desk, as if walking fast enough would help him get rid of the unease that clung to his clothes. He heard Brie hiss 'what the hell is wrong with you, you idiot?' and tuned out of their conversation before Lon could answer. Connor reached the waiting room and stopped at the entrance. 

A gunshot ripped through his audio units, and his world tipped over, and he was gone.  
_Gunshot, cut to black._  
_Gunshot, cut to black._  
_Gunshot, cut to black._

"You," a voice quietly said.

_"You," hissed a voice full of hatred._

"You're the one."

Connor jolted out of his glitch. He was standing upright in the middle of a waiting room filled with androids in various states of degradation. It had just been a memory file. It had been a memory file of RK800 model 51's shutdown caused by Carlos Ortiz' HK400 model. Connor had crossed paths with HK400s before, but none of which had had their foreheads bashed in like the one sitting in front of him did. None of which had cigarette burns on their defective chassis like this one did. None of which trembled like this one did. None of which stared at him like this one did. The HK400's fearful eyes were trained on him and Connor was unable to move. Connor wanted to step back. He wanted to run. His limbs wouldn't answer his commands.

"You told them I was there," whispered the HK400. "You and those humans pushed me to self-destruct."

"I'm-" Connor started at the sound of his own voice. He hadn't realized he'd opened his mouth to speak. "I'm sorry."

Despite his shivers, despite the fear in his eyes, the HK400 then tranquilly said: "I shot you."

Connor closed his mouth and stared at him blankly. The other androids in the room were watching on intently as the HK400 continued talking.

"I shot you. I killed you. You helped them and I killed you. You remember, don't you?"

Connor nodded.

"Good. Do you feel fear when you think about it?"

"...Yes," he managed.

"Good," the HK400 said again. "Then you know what I went through every day. You understand now. You do, don't you? You understand why I deviated? Fear?"

"I do," answered Connor. His own voice sounded strangely quiet to his ears.

"It's funny that now you have to live with it too. It's okay that you told the humans. We're even." The HK400 laughed softly, then hid his smile behind a trembling hand. "Now we're both broken. We're even."

Connor saw clear liquid trickle down the android's hand, and he backed away. Both broken. The HK400 knew. Connor wasn't certain how he knew, but he knew that he was broken too. Somewhere deep inside of him Connor thought he did understand how: he could see it in the HK400's eyes, a reflection of himself, something jagged and misplaced that couldn't be pulled out. 

Connor took another step back. His stress levels were steadily climbing. Distantly he thought about the fact that he only had to wait a few minutes for his appointment, that Markus would be disappointed if he didn't go, that it was important they had more details on his time loss glitch. Now, however, he needed to leave, even for just a moment. He had to. He had to get away from his guilt and his death and the androids scrutinizing him. 

Connor spun on his heels and left for the stairs where he planned to wait it out, frantically digging in his pockets for his coin and grasping it like his life depended on it. The bar on his HUD was red but his coin was in his hand and it was comforting. He threw it from one hand to the other as he hurried across the floor, the grounding weight hit his fingers squarely, and the bar's progress slowed down. 

"Connor?"

He stopped in his tracks. An AP700 in white uniform had stepped out of one of the curtained rooms and was standing on the edge of the waiting room.

"Connor, RK800 #313 248 317 - 53," he called out again, and then his searching gaze swept across the hall and landed on him. The AP700's eyes brightened and he came up to him with a smile. "Hello, Connor. The appointment before yours just got cancelled so we can push yours forward, if you'd like."

"If that's all right with you," answered Connor automatically. He knew he couldn't leave without fulfilling his objective because he couldn't disappoint Markus more than he already had, which meant he needed to do this check-up. He flicked the coin. The gunshot still echoed in his mind again and again, and the wings of a moth were beating loudly in his mind, cutting up his thoughts with sheets of darkness.

"It's no problem at all, since this is just a normal screening and won't take up to much of our time," said the android. "My name is Thomas, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Thomas." Connor's voice still sounded too mechanical. He wasn't trying to change that.

"Likewise," answered the AP700 without missing a beat, his gaze fixed at Connor's temple, and he hastily guided him inside a white room. There was a machine in the middle and a computer next to it, much like there had been at Kamski's, much like there had been at CyberLife. Of course, they were still in the CyberLife Tower even if it had been modified. It made sense.

"Please sit on the platform. Just plug in the main cable and we can launch the analysis."

Connor put away his coin and took the cable in his hand. "Shouldn't I be standing?"

Thomas typed something on the computer and looked over his shoulder. "No, you can go ahead and sit. Don't worry, you don't have to do anything, I've got it."

Connor nodded, opened the panel to the back of his neck, slid in the port with a soft click. _Hanging limbless in front of them._ _Gunshot, cut to black._ He blinked. His stress levels had just spiked. Connor pulled his coin out of his pocket again and just held it in his hand when he noticed it was shaking. Last time his hands had started to shake, he'd needed another person there to calm him down. This wasn't good. He couldn't ask these androids for help, they couldn't know, he didn't want them to see. He had to leave, he had to go find Markus or Nines or Hank- Connor just had to send a message and wait outside for Nines to join him. Nines would help.

< _RK800: Can you come to the Tower?_ >

Thomas kept his white hand on the side of the computer and said: "The stress levels indicated here are abnormally high, what are your systems telling you?"

Connor shook his head and reached a quivering hand to the cable jutting from his nape. "I- I have to go, I made a mistake."

Thomas glanced at him again, made a concerned noise and turned away from the computer to step close. Connor saw that white hand reach out to him, something metallic plinked on the ground and he was suddenly _afraid_.

"No," Connor said, and he jerked away from the android. "No, wait."

"You're getting too stressed. I'm not going to hurt you, okay? You don't have to be afraid of me, I'm only going to interface with you to help you calm down," said Thomas in an even voice as he kneeled down at his level and reached out.

Connor's processor snagged, he couldn't move, the white hand wrapped around his wrist.

"Get off me," he said. "Get off me. Get off me-"

The pressure on his wrist was gone, he didn't have it anymore, had never had one, but her hand was still on his arm and her shadow moved above him. Her jagged grin gleefully split her features in a way that made Connor's mind shudder. There were a few soft clicks and he felt his body be pulled in a way he didn't understand, because it felt like he was being forced upright but he was lying down with his back pressed up against hard cement. Connor could feel his chest shrink and expand against the ground as it fought for air he didn't need.

"Stop," he told her. "Please stop. I'm sorry, I said I was sorry."

Her laughter only grew louder. He saw a countdown to stasis appear on his HUD and tried to override it, to no avail. Why was she putting him in stasis? She'd said she'd kill him. He shook his head and couldn't do anything else to protest. He was stuck, he had no limbs, they'd made sure of that.

"No," he said desperately.

She liked that he was desperate, he could see it in her eyes, and he should've felt ashamed of himself for losing his composure but he didn't care for pride anymore. They'd done so much damage already, he was afraid what else they would do to him.

"You said," he pleaded, and the countdown reached zero. Connor disappeared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 23/07/2019 -
> 
> Connor: I'm fine.  
> Nines: _Bitch_  
>  Markus: The fuck you're _not_
> 
> Hey pumpkin! Pulled an all-nighter because of course with my luck I get assigned one on the first day I'm back to work. I also fucked up. I was so sleep-deprived I was drunk on it, and you know how when you're drunk you tend to open up about stuff with people you don't really know?  
> I've been an anxious mess all day because I did that with a collegue who was also assigned this all-nighter and whom I've only talked to like... two other times. We were both pretty wrecked. We talked about really personal stuff. I regret it _so_ much and I keep having pangs of panic because they might follow up on it later.  
> I hate this. 24 hour shifts really need to be banned for fuck's sake.
> 
> Anyway, onto the chapter. Connor finally getting some actual help was long-awaited and I hope it lived up to the hype!  
> \- Have some Nines Supportive Friendship. It's the best kind of supportive friendship out there.  
> \- By rA9 Connor rely on them already, even Carl told you to.  
> \- The android health system is shaping up nicely, woot!  
> \- Okay so I can tell you guys are going to hate on North again because she's a meanie, and yeah she is, but I just want to say she acts like that because she's terrified that this might be a new override scenario. She really hates leaving Markus alone with Connor who could potentially glitch, since she doesn't really know what it could be due to.  
> \- And there goes another little panic attack. Oh yeah, sure Connor, you're totally fine. Markus is like "oh shit dawg you're not okay"  
> \- Connor just listen to Markus, he knows what's good for you! You gotta be kinder to yourself, you're important too!  
> \- Nines is very loyal to Connor... But maybe a bit too much. Poor Nines is conflicted between helping Connor get better and keeping his secrets, because they're not quite compatible.  
> \- Both Connor and Nines are being protective of each other and they don't even realize it, haha.  
> \- Oh man, the Tower is a Bad Place for poor Concon. If only he could interface, he wouldn't need to go there.  
> \- A nice North? Woah, trippy. But of course where there's a nice person, there's also a bad, because things can never be easy for Connor.  
> \- Awww Connor you're too nice, just let the nice lady give you a quick appointment instead of getting guilt-tripped by mister asshole over there. Also it's such a paint trying to figure out Detroit's geography and neighborhoods when I don't live there and don't understand how the hell American cities work.  
> \- "FUCK FOR FUCK'S SAKE GIVE HIM A FUCKING BREAK" was probably your reaction when Connor encountered Carlos Ortiz' android. Sorry not sorry, he he he.  
> \- Hey pumpkin, you're not dreaming, Connor actually asked for help from Nines! Woaaaaaah bruh  
> \- "NO! GOD, NO! NOOOOOOO!" => You when Thomas got close to Connor with his hand uncovered.  
> \- And oh shit, that's a flashback all right.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	37. Losing Ground

Markus watched the short exchange between Nines and Connor from the doorway of his quarters, and then his gaze followed his friend's departure for the Tower until Connor disappeared around the corner. Simon, North and Josh started making their way towards him all at once, shortly followed by Nines, and he quickly gathered everything he'd learned through his conversation with Connor in his head as the others came inside.

"So how screwed is he now? How screwed are _we_?" asked North as soon as Nines closed the door behind him.

The look Josh shot her could have frozen over the Detroit River. "Show a little respect, North. This is a very distressing situation for Connor."

"Of course it is, that's why I'm asking," retorted North, undeterred. "It looks to me he's only getting worse when he was supposed to be getting better."

"How would you know? You don't talk to him unless you feel like picking a fight."

"I don't need to talk to him to know he's not normal," stated North. "He never smiles, he looks like he might short-circuit every time he has to talk with other androids, he likes hanging out with humans more than he likes hanging out with you guys. What do you make of that?"

"He smiles," disagreed Nines.

North rolled her eyes at him. "Right. I'm sure he's the happiest android in the land."

Markus stayed quiet. When he'd watched the RK800 leave from the doorway earlier, he'd found that Connor looked absolutely fine physically. His movements were precise and fluid, he walked in decisive strides with his back straight, his LED was the pale yellow that it constantly harboured when he was calmest. But that was the problem, wasn't it? A LED should never have been a constant yellow the way his was. Connor had not been getting better over the weeks and Markus was certain that Kamski had not planned any kind of time loss glitch to appear later on. On top of that, the way Connor had reacted to his proposal of interfacing was very preoccupying. Markus had expected a refusal, he knew very well that the RK800 wasn't at ease with any kind of physical contact if it involved a white hand and he'd been careful not to rush him into it. He hadn't expected Connor's gaze growing distant, or the way his LED had started blaring red, or how drastically his breathing pace had picked up for a few seconds only to stop just as brutally as it had started. Markus didn't need to have Nines scan Connor to know he was stressed, and that in itself was a big red neon sign that Connor was slipping. He didn't have the same control over his emotions he used to have, and he couldn't hide from Markus the way he undoubtedly would've liked to. Markus pulled up the note he'd registered all those days ago, when Connor had first been awakened to his limbless state in the midst of the leaders and Hank.

_Connor is very good at hiding his emotions._

That wasn't the case anymore, at least not recently. Markus felt like he was witnessing Connor slowly losing ground, struggling to keep afloat but steadily sinking, forcing himself to endure more than he could take for everyone's sake, unwilling to show just how much he was fighting to keep up. Markus was worried for his friend. Connor had tried to kill himself once before, and somewhere at the back of his mind, Markus wondered if he was trying to do it again. It would be a slow process, but at this rate what Connor was doing to himself could end up destroying him and he hadn't even seemed aware of this possibility at all. Markus knew that behaviour wasn't normal for the RK800, who always pushed himself to be on top of everything. Markus had the foreboding sensation that there was something very wrong with Connor.

"He's not doing well," admitted Nines next to him, his gaze forlorn. "And he doesn't seem to want to get better."

Markus turned to him. "I ordered him to spend his six hours of standby the way he originally should have. Do you think he won't do what I told him to?"

"No, I think he'll obey your orders. I just have a feeling that it won't be enough since Sixty keeps taunting Connor by comparing their efficiency, and Connor is convinced that he needs to do better as a result. I don't think he'll stop pushing himself." Nines' voice started sounding upset, his blue eyes turned troubled. "I've been too easy on Sixty... I don't know what I should do. I want him to back off, but I don't want to hurt him."

North made an annoyed noise at the mention of the problematic RK800, no doubt remembering the scene Sixty had caused on the night Hank and Connor had brought him to New Jericho. Markus understood that feeling. The mere mention of Sixty's name unsettled him, and it was worse now that he knew that Connor had to deal with that same vileness all the time in his workplace. This really had to stop, but part of him knew it wouldn't be that easy and he grimly said: "I imagine Connor doesn't want you to intervene, either."

"He wants to handle everything on his own," confirmed Nines. "I thought he was doing well, but that's evidently not the case. Sixty isn't just unpleasant, he's a danger to Connor's well-being."

"And since he's not working for New Jericho, I can't just pull him off the DPD," Markus stated, feeling frustrated that he was this powerless to help Connor's predicament with his double.

"We have to do _something_ ," said Simon. "We can't just let a leader get toyed around with like that, word will get out that an android's messing with one of New Jericho's faces without consequence."

Josh looked at him reprovingly and added. "The simple fact that he's trying to hurt Connor is inadmissible."

"Look, I'm all for messing _his_ face up as a warning not to fuck with New Jericho's leaders, but something tells me I'm not allowed to do that," said North.

"There's no need for violence," confirmed Markus. "I'd normally tell Sixty that he'd be excluded from our community if he continued to be abusive towards anyone, but the problem is that he doesn't seem to want to be involved in the first place. We don't hold any sway over him."

"We don't even know _what_ he wants," said Josh. "This is a complicated situation."

Markus pondered for a while, and then suggested: "Even if we can't do anything about Sixty directly, maybe I should just ask Connor to come back and focus on his work as a leader. Right now that's more important to our cause than elucidating the murders."

"That won't work," immediately said Nines. "The mere suggestion sent his stress levels flying when I talked about it earlier. He says he needs to do both."

Markus frowned. "Why? He was doing fine after the revolution, when he wasn't working at the DPD."

"That's what I thought too at first, but working with the police is essential to him now. I think preventing him from doing so would do him more harm than good."

"Really," mused Josh.

"I don't get it," said North, sounding more exasperated than curious to know.

"None of us do," remarked Simon, and he gestured to Markus, Nines and Josh. "Obviously even you three are clueless as to what's going on in Connor's head. Unless he tells one of you, we won't understand why he acts the way he does."

"...He did tell me something," Nines said hesitantly. "He panicked earlier, when I confronted him about his glitch. I don't think it was voluntary for him to do so, but he said that he was afraid of getting replaced."

"Replaced by who? Sixty?"

"Yes, but not exactly." Nines fell silent for a bit, like he was searching for the right words to explain, and then he looked at Markus. "You know that he could upload his memories to a new body when he died, correct?"

Markus nodded, not liking where he thought this was going. Not liking it one bit.

"It didn't just happen when he got too damaged to function. Connor told me that he'd get deactivated if he was considered a failure, presumably to be replaced by another RK800. I think that when he says he's afraid to get replaced, what he's really saying is that he's afraid to be deactivated."

Markus frowned. "So he's scared of being deactivated even now that androids are free? For... failure?"

"That's what he said in his panic. When I reminded him that there was no risk of this happening anymore, he calmed down and accepted what I told him. I think it's an unconscious way of thinking that he's not fully aware he needs to correct."

Markus was silent for a bit, and then asked: "What would failure be, according to him?"

"I'm not certain," answered Nines. "But judging from the discussions we've had before and what he told me earlier, he's fixated on being of use to you. I assume that he considers himself a failure if he finds that he isn't being useful enough. It's likely how CyberLife taught him to think."

"That explains why he's so intent on pushing himself for the good of New Jericho," slowly said Markus.

"And consequently why he doesn't want to be pulled off the DPD," said Josh.

"That's not the only reason he wants to keep working with the police," Nines corrected him. "Working with Hank is very important to him, to the point where he doesn't want to imagine not doing it anymore."

North clicked her tongue and looked away in disapproval while Josh nodded understandingly. "Hank and him are close. Maybe working with him is comforting to Connor and he doesn't want to lose that."

"It would be understandable," said Markus. Given everything that plagued Connor, from bad memories to bad reputation, the smallest bit of comfort must have been extremely precious to him.

"How is that understandable?" asked North. "Hank is a _human_."

Markus looked at her. "Some humans make very good friends."

North rolled her eyes at him. "Oh, so what, you've known good humans before?"

Markus stared at her. "Yes, I have. I'm still very close to one."

North's body language slackened in surprise, but she quickly recovered and imperceptibly shifted away from him. "Really."

"Really," he answered steadily, resolutely staring at her face and pretending not to have noticed her movement of retreat. "So I can understand why Connor wouldn't want to lose what he's finally gotten back."

The air in the room had gotten uneasy, and Nines was the one to dispel it when he spoke up. "At any rate, Connor isn't one to reach out for help and I don't think he'll ask for it if he needs it. I was already on the lookout for anomalies in his behaviour, but he might become even more unpredictable because of this new glitch. We need to be careful."

"What are we being careful for?" asked Simon dubiously.

They all looked at him in silence when they realized how difficult it was to find a clear answer to his question. Markus for his part had always been careful to try and make Connor feel at home with them, but it hadn't worked: Connor had fled New Jericho like a trapped bird finally escaping its cage. Markus was also careful to let their friendship evolve at Connor's pace, but it was slow and rocky progress. Then there were Connor's self-destructive tendencies, his withdrawn personality, his past as deviant hunter, his discomfort around most androids, his various glitches, his stagnant recovery, his secretive nature and his dissimulated fears. Connor was holding himself together like a neatly balanced house of cards and Markus was afraid that one light brush in the wrong spot would make him topple over.

Then Josh thoughtfully said: "I imagine we need to be careful that he doesn't hurt himself."

Markus felt more tension spread through his wires at the thought. If Nines was right and Connor continued avoiding their help, then forcing him to get more hours of standby wouldn't help with the root cause of the problem. Connor would probably get better with more rest, but there was the lingering possibility that he'd hide something from them again in the future. Markus felt like he was chasing his own tail trying to find solutions to Connor's behaviour.

He looked at Nines. "Could you somehow make sure those glitches don't put him in any danger? I know I'm asking for a lot, since you've got your own work to do, and I know he told me the DPD would give him a more suitable task, but I can't say I trust him to stay out of trouble."

Something flickered in Nines' eyes, but it was gone before Markus could tell what it was, and he nodded. "Of course, Markus. You can count on me."

"So wait," suddenly said North. "If I've got this right, we only know that he's losing time because he's not cooling down correctly."

"Right," Simon slowly said.

"But we don't know how exactly his systems are making him lose time."

"We don't," agreed Markus.

North threw her arms in the air. "And so you're just going to let him continue being a leader _and_ negotiator despite that?!"

Markus had expected this. "His behaviour hasn't changed, he still has the killswitch. There's no risk of override."

"Oh, rA9 save me," she groaned. "Please tell me you're not so oblivious that you can't see the problem."

"He's _not_ dangerous, North."

"Markus, that's not the issue," she said sharply. "He said it himself: he _loses_ time, and it could happen anywhere! Nines told us Connor wasn't aware of what he did during those moments."

"He's just... gone," confirmed Nines, in a voice that Markus found uncharacteristically soft. The RK900 was visibly very affected by what was happening to Connor.

"Exactly, that's handy in negotiations," sarcastically said North. "That way he can miss all the important details. Great!"

"And even if he doesn't move during those times, what if there's something happening inside of him?" added Simon. "What if he's got some kind of bug or virus that's slowly changing him every time it happens?"

"Changing him how?" asked Josh.

Simon looked at him. "Nines says Connor doesn't react to his surroundings when it happens. That sounds machine-like to me."

"What, you think someone's trying to make him go back to being a machine?" North's expression had turned wary, but she sounded doubtful. 

"No one can access him because of the killswitch," Josh reminded them. "There would be no point for anyone to do that to him."

"CyberLife doesn't know about the killswitch, it wouldn't stop them from trying," Simon argued. "Or maybe they do know and have found a way to control him without overriding him. We don't know how far CyberLife is willing to go."

"This may sound blunt, Simon, but you're being a bit paranoiac," said Josh.

"It sounds a little extreme," agreed Markus. "I know you're afraid of what Connor used to be, but I really don't think this has got anything to do with a bug or a virus. He said it happens only when he doesn't get enough time in standby, it's certainly his systems that get overtaxed and then tap out."

Josh's somber expression deepened. "That makes me wonder... Does he even realize when it's happened?"

"I can't say for certain," answered Nines quietly. "He reacted to his surroundings immediately after the glitch I witnessed today, so I suspect it's only because of the changes around him that he's able to figure it out. He's told me it happened six times total, but it may have happened more often than that without him knowing. I'm not sure, and he probably isn't either."

"That's... really dangerous," said Simon. A solemn silence followed his words.

"Look," North said with a hard stare directed at Markus. "I _know_ he's your friend, I _know_ how valuable he's been to our cause and I _know_ how efficient he is. But do you seriously think you can use a negotiator who spaces out like that? A _bodyguard_ who spaces out like that?"

Simon turned an expectant gaze on Markus, and even Josh nodded reluctantly and said: "Unfortunately, she has a point."

Nines was instantly alarmed by this development and hastily intervened: "I understand what you're saying, but please give it some more thought. He might react badly if you tell him that he's not suitable to the task anymore."

"Badly how?" asked Simon.

"I'm not sure," admitted Nines. "But I know that it would he a hard blow to him, mentally, and the way he copes with those isn't the best."

North smiled wryly at Markus. "Now that sounds like a stable android to me."

Nines turned on her and his blue eyes flashed dangerously. "He is stable, but you shouldn't push him. And trust me when I say that you _don't_ want to push him."

North crossed her arms, the smile on her lips turning into a grim line. "Let me guess. Or we'll have to deal with you."

"Precisely," answered Nines coldly.

"Look, we'll try to find a way to prevent the glitch from happening. And if he does lose time during a negotiation, I'll see it happen and I'll react accordingly," said Markus.

"You're absolutely delusional if you think you'll be the only one to notice," said North. "The humans will see it too. Nines says Connor stops breathing and blinking, it'll be obvious to them that something's wrong when he suddenly turns into a mannequin."

"Then I'll make sure it doesn't happen," said Markus unwaveringly. "I won't allow him to put himself in the conditions where he might experience the glitch."

"You've been doing a bang-up job of it so far," said North dryly.

Markus shot her a half-hearted smile. "If I didn't know how much you disliked him, I'd almost say you cared about him."

North let her arms drop at her sides and sighed. "No, Markus. I'm concerned about how this will impact future negotiations, because in the grand scheme of things those are what our rights are being built on. Don't make jokes about this, it's too important."

Markus nodded, abashed. "You're right, sorry."

"You're worried, Markus," Josh told him. "I understand, I'm worried too, but... rA9 help me, it's the second time I'm saying this today, but North is right. This glitch is a very serious developement."

"I know," said Markus tiredly. "I know. Look, Connor should be getting checked out at the Tower any minute now and they'll send Taylor the results as soon as they're done. We'll see what we can do from there."

"What do we do if it's not just because he doesn't get enough standby?" asked Simon.

"Then we'll find a way to deal with it," said Markus. "But this is too important to reason with theories and speculations. For now, we wait."

He dismissed them and once they'd all left his quarters, Markus went to gather his painting materials. He needed to organize his thoughts. He'd known that CyberLife had always had questionable ethics given that its founder was Elijah Kamski and that they'd continued the same line of products after the man had stepped down from his position, but Connor's case was even more complicated than he'd first thought. Not only was Connor ready to consider his body as nothing more than a means to an end as long as his mission was accomplished, he also thought that his worth was defined by how useful he was to anyone commanding him. Markus had noticed this before: Connor nearly always considered him as leader before considering him as a friend, and he had to alert him every time he meant to talk to him as the latter. He liked Connor, but the way he constantly expected directions from him was unsettling, and on a few occasions Markus had even felt upset by that. Oftentimes Connor acted more of a machine made to comply to orders than a deviant allowed to live.

Markus swirled the paintbrush in the pot of water he'd set down on the floor and flicked it before dipping the pale hairs into the blue pigment of his palette.

As a machine, Connor wouldn't have minded the threat of deactivation; according to Nines, he feared it even unconsciously now that he was deviant. And with CyberLife monitoring Connor's software instabilities, Markus had to wonder if Connor had been truly unaffected by that threat before he'd deviated. The fact that CyberLife had been watching out for signs of deviancy in Connor definitely meant that they'd known about it for a while, even prior to the first cases of deviants, but for Connor it could only mean one of two things. Either CyberLife had found a way to prevent deviancy from happening by using software tracking, experimented it on Connor and failed spectacularly; either CyberLife had known he would deviate and simply followed his progress. No matter the case, Connor had deviated and kept in mind everything he'd been used to under the yoke of CyberLife, which meant that what was supposedly protocol for an unfeeling machine had turned into the conditioning of a sentient deviant. Whether or not CyberLife had intended for Connor to deviate, they'd done damage and Connor didn't seem fully aware of that. At least, thanks to Nines' insight, Markus now knew why his friend was so stubborn about always working more and always doing better. It also meant that unless Connor's conditioning was undone, he would always reason that way. It meant overworking himself would come just as easily to him as it already had, and he wouldn't stop.

The brush traced another quiet blue line across the canvas.

During the two visits which Connor had helped him make to his father after the revolution, Carl had told Markus a number of things. To forgive and help Leo. To delegate more of his responsibilities to his co-leaders so he wouldn't get crushed under the weight of being the deviant leader. To remember he was Markus first and formost, and to put this before being the savior of androidkind. To believe in himself and what he was capable of. To allow himself to waver in times of uncertainty. To care for his friends and let his friends care for him. To allow himself to cry. To help Keats find his place in New Jericho. To make a life for himself that didn't revolve around building a future for androids, but rather building a future for himself. To remember what Carl had taught him as a father. To remember Carl. To remember how to love and to teach it to others. Everything Carl had told him, Markus held close to his heart.

The brush's hairs folded smoothly as he painted an arc.

Carl had shown interest in Connor as soon as Markus had told him that the deviant hunter who had tried to kill him at first had ended up turning the tide of the revolution, and was now his associate and friend. They'd ventured hypotheses for his worrisome behavior together. When Markus had been frustrated at his lack of progress with Connor, despite having easily established friendships with all the other leaders, Carl had told him to be patient and not to give up. When Markus had been angry at Connor for manipulating him simply beause he wanted to return to his unsafe charging station, Carl had figured there had to be a good reason and had incited Markus to be lenient with him. Without even knowing Connor, Carl had shown indulgence and strangely enough, some kind of affection for the RK800, as if he could see Connor for who he was through Markus' words. Markus didn't know what Carl had told Connor last time, but his friend had seemed a bit shaken when he'd stepped out of the bedroom. What Markus did know thanks to Keats' reports about Carl's health was that whatever Connor and Carl had talked about, it had greatly appeased his father, and Markus was grateful to Connor for it. The least he could do in return was to try and appease Connor. He hoped that the glitch wouldn't require to pull Connor out of the DPD, because that would have the opposite effect of what he was going for.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a new transmission.

< _AP700: Hello Markus, this is Taylor._ >  
< _AP700: I have bad news and good news and I'm not going to ask which you want to know first._ >  
< _AP700: The glitch he was examined for is simply a systemic issue that manifests through micro-stasis, and will certainly disappear if Connor gets enough standby._ >  
< _AP700: However Connor presented abnormal behavior in the Tower and was put in stasis to prevent further panic._ >  
< _AP700: I advise you or any of the other leaders to go there and see what's wrong, I don't have all the details and I'm too busy to go myself._ >

Markus dropped his paintbrush in the pot of water and hurriedly got to his feet.

< _RK200: I'll be there in a moment, thank you Taylor._ >

He stepped out of his cabin and swiftly walked past the podium to the nearest entrance, and received another message.

< _RK900: Markus, you have to help._ >  
< _RK900: There's something wrong with Connor._ >

< _RK200: How do you know?_ >  
< _RK200: Where are you?_ >

< _RK900: He told me to come to the Tower._ >  
< _RK900: I saw them take him out of the room just now and they won't let me go with him._ >  
< _RK900: He isn't moving, Markus, something's wrong._ >  
< _RK900: They won't let me see him, they won't listen to me._ >  
< _RK900: What do I do?_ >

< _RK200: It's all right, Nines, calm down._ >  
< _RK200: Taylor told me they put him into stasis because he was panicking._ >  
< _RK200: He didn't say anything about Connor getting hurt._ >

< _RK900: Then why won't they let me see him if it's nothing serious?_ >

< _RK200: It's protocol, they need another leader's approval so you can see him._ >  
< _RK200: I'm on my way, so wait for me._ >

< _RK900: Please hurry._ >

It was still dangerous for Markus to walk out of New Jericho alone, so he went to get North since she'd been his bodyguard for the negotiations in the beginning. He knew she was nearly impossible to convince when he wanted to step out of the camp for anything other than leader-related duties, so he'd expected it when she balked at the idea, but luckily Simon and Josh were still there with her and in the end it was decided that they'd all go see what was wrong with Connor directly at the Tower. They joined a tense and pacing Nines on the fourth floor a while later and Markus noted that Nines was surprisingly fretful when faced with anxiety compared to Connor's faked calm, despite that fact that Nines didn't usually have any tics the way Connor did. Nines' blue gaze snapped up to them as soon as they appeared.

"Good, you're here. Tell him I'm allowed to go see Connor!" Nines demanded, angrily gesturing to an AP700 in a white outfit standing next to him. There were more androids beyond this one, all seemingly guarding the door to a hallway and staring apprehensively at the agitated RK900.

"You can't just barge in there like you tried to earlier," the AP700 told him.

Nines turned on him with his teeth bared. "I have permission from Markus, what more could you possibly want?"

"I can't let you go see him when you don't know anything about what happened," answered the android with impressive composure, even if he did take a wary step back. The others seemed intimidated by the scene Nines was causing and Markus thought it best to intervene before things got out of hand.

"Nines, calm down, please. He's right, we need to know what happened before we go see him."

The RK900 didn't back down, and instead took a step forward so that he was now towering menacingly over the AP700. "It's _his_ fault," he growled. "I saw it on the tape, he made Connor panic."

Markus frowned. He hadn't known Nines could simply access the surveillance tape of the building whenever he felt like it, wasn't sure what to think about it now that he did, and definitely didn't like what he'd just said about the AP700 making Connor panic. Markus directed a gaze full of warning to the nurse. "What is he talking about?"

"I'll explain," answered the android. "We shouldn't talk about this in the hall, let's go inside."

The AP700 didn't wait for anyone to answer and had already walked past one of the curtains that delimited the screening rooms before they could react. Nines immediately followed him with a prowl to his stride, and Markus followed with the others, hoping that the RK900 wasn't planning on doing anything to Thomas. They all stood in front of a computer as the nurse explained what had happened, albeit rather hesitantly.

"First of all, let me present myself. My name is Thomas, and I'm the one who conducted Connor's screening test earlier. Taylor must have given you the results already, the test itself went very well and I managed to extract all the information you needed to know about the glitch with ease. The more problematic aspect of our situation is Connor's behaviour. I'm not sure exactly why Connor started panicking, but his stress levels were already high when I got his readings on the computer." He looked at Markus. "Is it common for his LED to turn red even when he's not looking particularly distressed?"

Markus nodded. "Unfortunately, he's very good at hiding when he's feeling anxious."

"He was acting normally when I greeted him in the hallway, but it was flaring up and I wasn't sure if it was simply due to the glitch I was supposed to examine him for," said Thomas.

"What happened then?" asked Nines.

Thomas gestured to the machine. "He hooked himself up and I started running the analysis. It showed 85% stress levels and I thought it was an error because of how calm he was acting, so I asked him to check what his systems told him, but then he said he needed to leave. I turned around and saw that he was trying to disconnect, and when I saw his hands were shaking I realized that he was seriously stressed." Thomas paused and frowned. "I wish I'd realized it sooner."

Markus remembered the way Connor had behaved when his life had been in their hands, how calm and nearly uncaring he'd seemed to be about the decision they'd have to take even as he was hanging limbless from a all. Only his LED had been telling of his true feelings, and even then, Markus had sometimes doubted it was showing the right color because of how sleek and smooth Connor's attitude had been. He gave Thomas a reassuring look and said: "No one blames you. It's always a bit difficult to tell what he's thinking."

Then he recalled how distraught Connor had been when he'd glitched in the middle of New Jericho and Markus had found him hiding in his quarters. Connor's hands had been shaking back then too, even if they'd stopped once Markus had started to talk with him. He asked in an afterthought: "Did his hands stop shaking?"

"Not until he went into stasis," answered Thomas. "The fastest way to calm him down would've been interfacing, but he pulled away when I took him by the wrist, so I didn't insist." Thomas looked preoccupied. "But then he froze up completely when I let go, and it didn't look like he could hear me after that. He was completely unreactive. I had to secure him with the restraints because of abnormal behaviour, and then I manually initiated a countdown to stasis to avoid reaching critical levels of stress."

There was silence in the room. Markus stared at the AP700 in both consternation and frustration. He wanted to yell at him for attempting to interface with Connor but of course, _of course_ it made sense that this would've been the first step to calm down a distressed android. It was what he'd tried to do himself. It was what everyone of them tried as first action when they saw a fellow android in any kind of anguish.

"Why did you get closer to him even though he told you to wait?" asked Nines reproachfully. He looked ready to hit the other android and Markus wondered if they'd have to restrain the RK900 at one point. He'd seen it happen before, and it usually took more than three androids to slow Nines down, more than five if they needed to pull him away from North. 

"I thought I could calm him down!" answered Thomas, his composure crumbling beneath a suddenly guilty expression. "I thought that if I showed him I didn't mean any harm, he'd understand. I've had patients panick before because of high stress levels, they lose sight of where they are and take me for a threat, but I've always managed to calm them down fairly easily through interfacing. Once they see I can do that, the fact that I'm an android like them is enough to alleviate their stress and they're conscious enough to accept the prompt. I don't know why Connor reacted like this, I've never had a patient panick _more_ because I tried interfacing with them!"

Nines opened his mouth in a snarl, but Josh quickly grabbed his shoulder and he was distracted briefly enough that Markus could intervene in the calmest voice he could manage. "He has an aversion to interfacing. I'd like you to put it in his technical file, please."

Thomas looked a bit perturbed by the news, but he nodded like he'd half-expected it and laid a hand on the computer. "I wasn't sure if it was to interfacing or touch in general. There, it's done." 

"You don't know why he was anxious from the start?" asked Josh.

"No idea," Thomas cautiously replied, his gaze rapidly alternating between the four androids in front of him as he took his hand away from the console. "Look, I never meant to make him panick like that. If I'd known, I wouldn't have tried."

"We know. Did he say anything when you tried to interface?" asked Josh.

Thomas' expression turned even guiltier than it had earlier. "He told me to wait when I stepped closer, and if he's got an aversion to interfacing then it must've been because he saw my hand uncovered." He glanced down at it, closed his fist and looked back up. "Then he told me to get off him, so I did right away because he was so panicked, but I don't think he realized I did so because he just kept repeating the same thing. Then he just... froze up."

"I need to talk to him," said Nines abruptly. His earlier request of being let through was clearly still a main objective of his, even when they were in the middle of the conversation. He looked deeply frustrated and preoccupied. "The way he froze up earlier wasn't normal, I don't want him to be alone right now."

"He's in stasis, don't worry," Thomas reassured him. "He won't wake up unless someone makes him."

"I need to see him," insisted Nines, and again Josh had to grab his shoulder so he wouldn't try to tower over the nurse like earlier. The RK900 really had a bad habit of using his height as an argument.

"He's not going to leave," Josh told him in a placating tone. "You'll go see him in a few minutes, but right now you should stay here for the results of his analysis. It's important too."

Nines was reasonable enough to understand that Josh's advice made sense and he settled down slightly, though unhappily. Markus looked at the nurse and asked: "Thomas, can you explain what you found during the screening test?"

The AP700 went to touch the computer once more, looking like he didn't really know where to start, and the screen shifted into lines of text. "Well, there's a _lot_ wrong with his code, but the file Taylor sent me mentioned that it had been altered before."

Markus reached out to take him by the arm and when Thomas looked up at him, he said in a warning voice: "I trust that everything you saw will remain private."

Thomas nodded. "Of course. We have strict patient confidentiality rules here." Markus let go of him and he continued. "At any rate, the glitch responsible for time loss I was supposed to investigate isn't anything too alarming. Connor's systems are forcing him to give them rest by occasionally reverting to a less demanding performance, and that stutter is manifested by the glitch. It's essentially a micro-stasis. It only lasts a few seconds because this isn't something Connor allows consciously, so his systems are pushed back on track as soon as possible, but a micro-stasis will likely last longer if Connor reduces the time he voluntarily chooses to spend in standby."

"So this is happening because he's... tired?" ventured North.

Thomas nodded. "Basically, yes."

She looked dubious. "I know plenty of androids who don't go into standby for days when they don't want to, and I've never seen that kind of thing happen before."

"Do they have problems with their software?" asked Thomas.

"...No," she admitted.

"I thought so. It takes a lot for this to happen to people like you and me because we're not easily pushed to our limits, but it's much more common for those whose systems already struggle on the daily," he explained. "They need more time in standby to sort through all the errors that accumulate over time, otherwise it just keeps getting worse."

"So if I've understood everything correctly, this means that if he doesn't allow himself his six hours of standby every night, the glitches are only going to get longer," said Markus.

"Exactly."

"But if he does, then the problem is fixed."

Thomas nodded. "Absolutely. Well, I mean, we try not to deal in absolutes in my domain, but I'm pratically certain that the glitches will stop altogether if he just respects his needs."

Josh sighed. "If only it was that easy with him."

Markus couldn't help but nod in agreement, and then asked: "You said he was still hooked when he panicked. Is there anything on the computer that could help us determine what happened?"

Thomas' expression turned apologetic. "As I've said, we have strict patient confidentiality rules here. I can't tell you anything unrelated to the micro-stasis glitch without Connor's consent, unless it was putting him directly in danger and he was unable to give it."

Markus frowned at him. "You said he could've reached critical levels of stress, that sounds directly dangerous to me."

"Yes, but he should be able to give consent when he wakes up, if you really want more details," insisted Thomas. "I'm sorry, but I can't go against the rules."

"He wouldn't like us to know anything about him without his assent, anyway," Nines quietly said, and Markus knew he was right. It was with great reluctance that he stopped himself from questioning Thomas any further. The AP700 looked rather calm about whatever it was he couldn't tell them, so he figured that maybe what had happened to Connor then wasn't as bad as he feared it could be.

Everyone was silent for a while, and then Nines asked: "Can I go see him now?"

"I'll accompany you to his room and you can wake him up from stasis," suggested Thomas. 

"I'm coming with you," said Markus, and he looked at Josh. "I think just me and Nines is enough for a start."

"I think so too," agreed Josh. "I'm not sure he'd want to see anyone else right now."

Nines and Markus followed Thomas out of the room and took the elevator to floor 41, where they walked past several white rooms before entering one. Connor had been propped up on a charging station with restraints around his hands and waist, but Markus doubted any of them would really be useful if needed considering what Josh had told him about Sixty's escape from Kamski's mansion. Connor's brown eyes were open and unseeing, and his LED glowed softly every three seconds. It wasn't unusual to see androids standing stock-still and open-eyed when they rested, but for the first time in his life Markus felt a bit uneasy to see someone in stasis. It took him a moment to realize that it was precisely because this was Connor, who was always sharp and alert and who Markus had never seen go into stasis with his eyes open before. Connor usually closed them.

Thomas gestured towards him. "You can wake him up."

Nines and Markus exchanged a look, and Markus said: "You should be the one to do it. I don't think he has good memories of me getting him out of stasis."

Nines nodded and turned to Thomas. "Could you remove the restraints? I don't want him to feel trapped."

Thomas made another apologetic face. "I'm not allowed to do that. We don't know how he could react."

"I'm his upgrade, I can handle him," insisted Nines.

"It's protocol."

Nines looked like _he_ wanted to argue this time, but Thomas had shown he was one to stick to the rules no matter what, so Markus decided to intervene again and told Nines: "Just wake him up. We'll take the restraints off as soon as he's conscious of where he is."

Nines nodded but didn't look to happy about it, and Markus realized he'd picked up some of Josh's mannerisms because his face harboured nearly the same expression as Josh's had when Markus had decided to keep Connor limbless for his interrogation: compliant, but reluctant and discreetly resentful. Nines stepped up to Connor and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Wake up, Connor."

It didn't surprise Markus to see his friend's LED instantly snap into bright yellow, but at least Connor didn't start flailing this time. His eyes focused and he looked up at the android in front of him.

"...Nines?"

Nines smiled at him reassuringly. "It's me. Do you know where you are?"

Connor nodded, looking a bit confused but a lot less panicked than Markus had expected him to be. "The Tower. My stress levels were climbing, I sent you a messa-" He cut off when he realized he was restrained, and then his eyes went wide. "Did I hurt anyone?"

"No," quickly said Nines. "Not at all, you just had a glitch and Thomas put you into stasis. Do you remember that?"

A frown creased Connor's forehead. "...I remember having a glitch in the waiting room, if that's what you're asking about."

"Just a second." Nines turned to Thomas. "Can we take off the restraints now?"

"Oh, yes," said the AP700, and he hurriedly stepped forward. 

"Do you remember your stress levels were rising while you were hooked up to the machine?" asked Markus, and Connor finally noticed him. 

"Yes... Wait." Connor peered at him. "You don't have any leader duties here."

Markus smiled when he saw the suspicion in his friend's eyes. "Don't worry, I didn't sneak past North to come see you. The others are all here too."

Annoyance spread across Connor's face. "So I've disturbed everyone then." 

Thomas and Nines undid the clasps and let them hang on each side of the machine, and Connor stepped off the platform of the charging station.

"Not really. We were all waiting for the results of your analysis anyway," said Markus, and he told Connor the essentials of what Thomas had explained earlier before concluding: "Spending only four hours of standby each night definitely isn't an option for you anymore."

"I know," said Connor. "At least we know what it is exactly."

Nines spoke up. "I'd like to go back on what we were talking about. Your stress levels started rising while you were hooked up to the machine, then what happened?"

"...I don't know," said Connor in a puzzled voice, one Markus didn't think he was faking. "I only recall things up to the moment Thomas held my wrist to interface." 

"I apologize, I didn't know you were averse to interfacing," said the AP700 remorsefully.

"That's all right, you couldn't have," Connor told him, and then he looked back at Nines and Markus. "There's a gap of time between that moment and the beginning of stasis, so I must have had another time loss glitch." His eyes twitched slightly and he added: "The footage indicates that I was immobile after that. It matches up."

"Thomas can tell the three of us what the analysis told him about that moment if you consent to it," said Markus. "Right now neither me nor Nines know exactly what happened, and I want to make sure it really was just the same glitch."

Connor's gaze flitted to the AP700 standing off a bit to the side, then to Markus and Nines, then back to Thomas again. He was thinking, and it only took him a short moment to come to a decision. His brown eyes held caution when he finally asked Thomas: "Can you confirm that it was a micro-stasis glitch?"

"It did seem like one," answered Thomas. "You were completely immobile and unreactive for a few seconds."

"It seemed like one?" echoed Markus, and he noticed that Connor looked equally wary as he felt. 

"From what I gathered, your LED has always been blue during such a glitch. It wasn't the case here, where it just kept firing red. And your systems didn't fully revert to stasis-like functioning," explained Thomas.

Connor didn't say anything for a moment. His head was tilted slightly in thought, and then he raised it again and suggested: "It might be because I was already highly stressed before the glitch happened. It's never occurred in such conditions before."

"Right," nodded Thomas. "It's true that you've only lost time when your stress levels were on the lower side of the spectrum until now."

Nines hadn't said much and didn't look convinced at all. "So you're saying that it was some kind of variant to the usual time loss glitch?"

"It could be," said Thomas, and then he admitted: "This is the first time I've seen something like this, I don't have enough experience to be sure of anything concerning Connor. His code isn't what I'm used to dealing with and the screening test deals with the mostly superficial part of it."

"Maybe we should get an in-depth analysis, then," suggested Markus.

"No," immediately said Connor in a surprisingly vehement voice.

Markus was taken aback by the instant refusal. "Why not? We need to know what that was."

"We _know_ what that was, it was another time loss glitch," retorted Connor. "A different kind, maybe, but I lost time all the same. I don't want to go through more tests."

Markus frowned at him disapprovingly, a familiar sense of irritation coursing through his wires. He knew they were just about to go down the same old road again, where Connor refused to pay deeper attention to his state and Markus insisted that he did, because they'd been through the same conversation so many times before. "Connor, we can't just assume things about your health and call it a day."

"It might not make much sense to _you_ , Markus, since you haven't had anyone poking around in your code, but I'm getting tired of people rifling through mine," Connor dryly answered.

Markus looked in Nines' direction for support, but the RK900 looked like he understood what Connor was saying and didn't want to jump in the fray. Of course. Both Connor and Nines had issues with their code, so it made sense Nines was able to see something in Connor's reasoning that Markus couldn't. Frustration welled up inside Markus, because he _knew_ he'd probably be fed up too if he was in Connor's shoes, and he was trying to get Connor to do even more things he wasn't at ease with despite that. Not only was Connor extremely stubborn- which guaranteed at least half an hour of going back and forth if they continued like this- but on top of that Markus felt like the bad guy, and that took away a good chunk of his determination to insist. This wasn't Connor being an idiot about not resting enough because he wanted to be even more useful than he already was; this was Connor telling him that the reason he didn't want to do something was just that he didn't want to do it. Connor wasn't using any excuse for his refusal: he'd just had enough.

"I'm still losing time," said Connor like it was the simplest thing in the world. "I'll rest, get my six hours of standby, and it won't happen again. Can you please drop the subject?"

Markus stared at him unhappily. This situation was definitely along the lines of when Connor refused to talk about his feelings: it wasn't something Markus could force him to do in any way, because doing so would sour the trust between them. Connor wanted him to back off because he didn't want anyone digging around inside of him any more than they already had. Markus realized then just how difficult it must have been for someone as private as Connor to have their code bared to an utter stranger such as Thomas simply because he'd been ordered to. The screening test only achieved the neutral task of tracking errors in code, system functions and general readings, so there was no risk of having memories prodded at or anything as intimate; but it was still a test that pointed out defects. And if there was one thing Markus now knew Connor couldn't tolerate, it was to be deemed defective. It had probably taken a lot out of him to go through with it.

"Okay," Markus finally answered. "No in-depth analysis for now."

Connor's shoulders relaxed minutely. "Thank you."

He was still tense and on guard, and it suddenly hit Markus that Connor had been discreetly moving away from Thomas and closer to Nines, and that Nines had been reciprocating the action just as sneakily. Both were standing nearly shoulder to shoulder now to face Markus and Thomas, and anyone who'd have stepped through the door would've probably thought this was a two-on-two confrontation. Not only was Connor fed up with getting his code studied and dissected, he was still _scared_. He didn't look panicked, or like he'd bolt out of the room at any given moment, but he did seem wary of the nurse and more at ease with Nines at his side. Markus would've wanted to know what Connor had thought at the moment Thomas had reached out to him, why he'd been so afraid, why he'd told the other to get off of him. If they'd been alone, maybe he even would've tried, but Markus had a feeling that he wouldn't have gotten far. Connor probably hadn't meant to let those words escape his mouth. Instead, he asked: "You said you had a glitch in the waiting room. Was it stress-related?"

Connor gazed at him, and said in a carefully neutral voice: "Yes, but I'd rather not talk about it."

Markus wondered what could have triggered it, but Connor had just admitted to having a glitch instead of trying to deny it or downsize it for once, and that was progress; it would've been stupid to try and push Connor further. Markus reigned in his curiosity and said: "Then we won't. Thank you for telling me."

Connor stared at him, and then faced Nines and said: "Sorry I made you come here for nothing."

"It wasn't for nothing," answered Nines. "I'm glad you told me or I wouldn't have known."

Connor looked dubious. "You wouldn't have missed much."

"I'm glad you told me," repeated Nines earnestly. "You needed help and you asked for it. That's good, Connor."

Connor gave him the same wordless stare he'd just given Markus, and then turned to the side to change the subject. 

"This doesn't change anything to what you told me, does it?" he asked Markus. "I can still work at the DPD?"

"As long as you take care of yourself, I won't have anything to say," answered Markus.

Connor looked sincerely relieved by this, and then he looked at Thomas and said: "I apologize for putting you in that situation."

"It's all right, this kind of thing happens all the time," answered the AP700. "If anything, I'm the one who's sorry for scaring you when you were already very stressed. I put your aversion to interfacing in your technical file so that it won't happen again."

"Thank you," said Connor. "Is it all right for me to leave now?"

"Yes, in fact I'm going to go ahead, I have another appointment," said Thomas as he spun around to leave. "Have a nice evening!"

"You as well," answered Markus, and when he looked back at Connor he saw that his friend had a preoccupied expression. "What's the matter?"

Connor looked at him, then at Nines. "We really need to get going if you want me to spend my six hours of standby correctly, we should've started patrolling half and hour ago."

Markus stared at him incredulously. "You were _just_ put in stasis because Thomas estimated that your levels were getting dangerously high."

"Yes, and I'm fine now," answered Connor without missing a beat. "I'll let the others take you back to New Jericho the same way you came here, if that's all right with you."

"...Okay," answered Markus, and just like that, Connor vanished.

"We'll see you later," Nines said, and he took off as well.

Markus ended up alone in the empty room, and the only things that was left to do was to go back to the others. As he walked down the white hallway, he couldn't help but feel like Connor had bounced back a bit too fast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 26/07/2019 -
> 
> Nines: Hey guys big reveal  
> Nines: Connor's fucked up in the head  
> Jericrew: *collective gasp of surprise*
> 
> Hey pumpkin! Holy shit I am TIRED. If I could stop time I'd just sleep and sleep and sleep.  
> Also I watched Venom the other day and like... Why do so many people say it's shit? I loved it. I mean, I get that it was said the movie could've been even more violent if they hadn't cut so many scenes and that would've been loads of fun too, but what's done is done and I'm just happy this movie exists. I actually laughed out loud at the chase sequence because I was so invested in it.
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Shitty Sixty is a real problem child. The Jericrew is at loss. What do you think they should do?  
> \- Thank rA9, _finally_ they make some leeway in understanding Connor's mentality! This is a glorious day, my friends! Thank you Nines for telling them what Connor let slip in his panic, finally!  
> \- And now everyone knows to be on high alert with Connor. Good.  
> \- But Connor is making Nines keep secrets from everyone. Less good.  
> \- Since in my fic, there's never been a "lover" relationship between North and Markus, they don't know much about each other's life before the events of the game.  
> \- Simon and North would make very prolific conspiracy theorists. They're always imagining worst-case scenarios about Connor and their imagination can run pretty wild.  
> \- Protective Nines! Yes! My baby! You know that meme of the woman picking up a man and telling the other to back the fuck up? That's Nines with Connor against North. Well, against Sixty and Gavin too.  
> \- Markus' painting stuff is the equivalent of his thinking cap. Also I do NOT paint, so please correct me if he does something nonsensical while painting (like I don't know, using a certain brush with a certain paint or maybe he's rinsing his brush the wrong way or something)  
> \- I'm sure a lot of deviants remember being somewhat aware that they'd be scrapped if they didn't meet their owner's expectation, and are likely very resentful of that now that they've deviated, but the difference is that those who realized it and deviated could try to escape; whereas Connor could feel it all and still "chose" to remain under that threat. More on that later in the story.  
> \- Markus is pissed because both him and Thomas made the mistake of trying to interface with Connor _the same day_ and made him panic both times. He's like "can't the guy catch a break for fuck's sake" and you're probably thinking the same. He he.  
> \- He's considerate when he asks Nines to wake up Connor instead of him, since he remembers all too well the panic in Connor's eyes when he had to do it the first time while Connor was limbless. Connor isn't the only one that's a bad memory for.  
> \- Ahhhh Nines is so cute copying Josh's expressions  
> \- What in the hell happened to Connor last time? No in-depth analysis means we don't get to know more, unfortunately. Frustrating, isn't it? (Don't hate me please, I love you pumpkins <3)  
> \- So to sum it up: good news is that the Jericrew finally knows a bit more about how messed up Connor is, the glitch isn't that serious, and Connor is trying to communicate with them a little more; bad news is that Connor is still very much fucked up and not communicating enough.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	38. Salt and Coffee

Connor glanced at Nines behind his monitor at the DPD and then looked back at the screen. The RK900 had been sticking a bit closer than usual since the incident in the Tower and Connor didn't know what to think of it. Part of him was still annoyed by his upgrade's insistant proximity, the way it had always been ever since he'd known him; however the other one, which he didn't like to acknowledge but couldn't deny, had grown more prevalent and he felt reassured to know that Nines was nearly always there. Maybe things could've gone differently at the Tower if Connor hadn't refused Nines' company, and it was likely they were both aware of that. Connor had no one to blame but himself for being unable to control his stress levels after seeing the HK400, for being unable to stop Thomas from coming close and for refusing to ask anyone's help before it was too late. Because of all of this he'd experienced yet another glitch, which Connor felt had been exactly the same as a micro-stasis despite Thomas saying the opposite. Connor's stream of consciousness had cut from the moment a white hand had wrapped around his wrist to the moment he'd opened his eyes to see Nines standing in front of him, the surveillance tape of the Tower showed he'd frozen in place and that his perfunctory functions had stopped; the only notable difference had been the color of his LED during the episode and the way his systems hadn't fully reverted to stasis-like functioning. It was similar to a time loss glitch yet not fully so. All he could do was wait to see if it would happen again, in which case he'd have to tell Markus about it.

The other thing that annoyed Connor besides Nines constantly being on the lookout for more of his glitches was that he'd told the other leaders about their conversation after work. The way CyberLife had treated defective RK800s was common knowledge and sense, so it was normal that everyone would know about it; what Connor didn't like was that Nines had shared the details of a private conversation with the others. On top of that, Nines kept telling him that the way he thought he'd still be replaced even after the revolution was an unconscious train of thought that he needed to change, preferrably by talking with Josh. Josh himself had redoubled his efforts to convince Connor to speak to him. Connor knew that Josh and Nines were right, but he couldn't bring himself to open up, and to some degree he didn't want to change anything at all. Conscious or not, this way of thinking kept him in check when Amanda couldn't anymore, and Connor needed that to be better. In the end, Connor kept refusing to talk to Josh, even after the amount of times he was jolted out of standby had increased, and even after his construction program had suddenly started acting up the night following the Tower incident.

Connor was suddenly pulled out of his thoughts by a familiar deep voice on his left. 

"So... What aren't you telling me?"

He looked away from the file about a missing android displayed on his computer and saw that Hank was squinting at him from across the desk.

"What are you talking about?" asked Connor.

Hank leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. "You think I haven't noticed you're all gloom and doom since this morning? I can tell there's something going on in that head of yours."

Connor stared at him silently. There was, in fact, a thought. A thought with dark little wings flittering about his mind that shifted between the cold gleam of a gun, and a loud explosion, and the Detroit River. 

Hank pulling the trigger.

His construction program had experienced a malfunction overnight and Connor had seen what it would've been like if Hank had shot him for real on that bridge. The scenario that his program had gone through with was an easy construction given how high the likelihood ratio had been of Hank shooting him then. It was already troublesome enough that Hank knew that Connor often thought of the night on the bridge, and Connor didn't want to add this terrible construction to the things Hank already regretted about that time. He couldn't tell him this was what had been making him act so uhappy all morning. Up until last night, Connor used to think that program was an advantage. Now he wasn't so sure of it anymore. He wondered why this was happening to him only now, after several months, if his program had always had this potential. It had to be linked with what had happened in the Tower, but he just didn't know how.

"Come on, Connor," insisted Hank when his silence stretched out. "What's up?"

Connor stopped rifling through the missing person cases he was supposed to check out for Markus since two deviants had disappeared from New Jericho without notice and withdrew his hand from the computer. This felt like it would be an important conversation and he preferred to pay his undivided attention to it. If his hypothesis was correct, the reason he'd ever experienced the fake construction was because of what he'd gone through on the day he'd been forced into standby to prevent reaching dangerous levels of stress. It was the only unusual recent event he could think of that could've triggered a change within him, and seeing the HK400 had reminded him of the time he'd been shot in the head, which had likely contributed to making the construction so vivid. He couldn't tell Hank about getting checked out at the Tower, or he'd know that there was something wrong with him. He could, however, tell him about the encounter if he didn't say where it had taken place. 

"Do you remember Carlos Ortiz' murder?" he asked his friend.

Hank furrowed his brow. "Yeah, of course I remember. Don't tell me you met another deviant from a case."

"I did," said Connor unhappily. "The HK400 that was abused."

"Christ." Hank leaned on his desk. "No wonder you're not feeling well. Why didn't you tell me? You could've come over, we would've talked about it."

"I didn't think I'd need to." After the glitch and the incident with his stress levels, he'd wanted to be alone. The other side of the truth was that Connor couldn't have gone to Hank's, since he'd wanted to obey Markus' order. He wouldn't have had the time to complete the six hours of standby if he'd spent part of the night with Hank, and he hadn't really felt like it anyway.

"Connor, the guy shot you," Hank said incredulously. "Of fucking course you need to talk about it! Don't keep that shit to yourself!"

"...Yes. Sorry." Connor didn't really know what else to say.

Hank reached over and squeezed his shoulder. "Hey, look... You don't have to apologize. Did you talk about with anyone?"

Connor looked down. "Just you."

There was a moment of silence, and Hank exhaled through his nose. "Okay. You don't want to tell them?"

"...There were androids there when he talked to me. They heard what I did to him. It'll probably reach the others' ears at one point, but I don't want them to know if I can help it."

"Connor, you don't have to feel guilty about him. You're not the one who killed him, _he_ killed _you_ and then himself."

"For good reason. I betrayed him, and then I pressured him while he was already emotionally compromised."

Hank leaned in closer. "You didn't betray him, he _murdered_ someone. Okay, so Ortiz was a huge piece of shit, but that android was a murderer. If the same thing happened today he'd still get brought in for what he did. The outcome probably would've been different, but either way you would've had to tell us he was there and we needed that confession."

Connor looked up at him. "He was an abuse victim and I tormented him. He had no chance to recover from what that man put him through."

"You had to do what you had to do to get the confession," stated Hank. "You were following your mission and that's just the way you did it. You do realize that anyone else in the station would've done the same? We didn't realize that it was real trauma we were witnessing, and we definitely never considered _not_ pushing him for a confession. There's no use beating yourself up over it."

Connor looked away again.

"Besides," continued Hank, "he's back in working order, right? He's got all the time in the world to get over it now, and that's thanks to you. I bet you didn't even think about that."

Connor hesitated, still staring at the useless keyboard in front of him, and conceded: "...I didn't."

"Of course not, because you never give yourself the better role. How many androids do you think got messed up, deviated and then got thrown away without a single moment to cope, that _you_ saved by winning the revolution? How many do you think will be able to learn how to live because _you_ allowed them to be pulled back from the dead and get help in New Jericho? Hundreds, that's how many. Thousands, even."

Connor didn't know if he could accept Hank's words. He may have helped those androids indirectly, but he was the direct cause of many deaths and that wasn't easy to forget. The problem was that he knew those he had killed all too well, and not those he had saved.

Hank continued talking. "I know it's difficult for you to believe the good things about you sometimes, trust me, I've been there. It's okay if you don't want to hear this right here, right now, but keep it in mind for later, yeah?"

Connor nodded lightly.

Hank's grip on his shoulder disappeared and Connor felt it rest on top of his hand in the following moment. He looked up and noticed that there was an affectionate quirk to his friend's smile, and his voice sounded a bit gruff when he added: "Look, if you can't be proud of yourself, than you should at least know that _I'm_ proud of you. For everything you accomplished, and everything you're still working for, because none of it is easy but you're doing great."

Connor felt a rush of thirium in his face upon hearing his friend's praise and couldn't hold his gaze any longer, so he ducked his head and murmured: "Thank you, Hank."

Hank retrieved his hand and a moment of undefinable silence floated in the air between them. Then his friend leaned back in his seat and glanced at his computer. "This report is fucking boring. How about we take a coffee break together for once? I feel like shit-talking a certain someone."

Connor was glad for the change of subject and he quickly agreed. 

Later that day he realized that he felt noticeably better thanks to the conversation he'd had with Hank, and it felt more important than ever to stay close to him. Connor needed this. He needed to remain Hank's partner.

Connor obeyed Markus' order to spend his six hours in standby no matter what and Nines' cooperation in helping him patrol New Jericho's periphery allowed him to rest up to seven hours a night, which definitely took the pressure off his error-filled systems. He didn't notice having another time loss glitch and Nines didn't either, despite watching out for any changes in Connor's behaviour whenever they were in the same room. Although Connor had harboured doubts about being able to detect his own glitches and it was comforting to know that someone else could do it, it was frustrating to be reminded that he wasn't as autonomous as he would've liked. It didn't help that Sixty had noticed how watchful Nines was, as this foddered his criticism of their upgrade's overprotectiveness, but for once Connor knew something Sixty didn't which allowed him to serenely ignore his double: Sixty had no knowledge of the time loss glitch and consequently didn't know this was the reason of Nines' attitude, and Connor didn't mind Sixty's taunts quite as much as a result.

The following time Connor went to Washington with Markus, they were accompanied by North in case he glitched. Nothing of the sort happened. They did this for two weeks and when it was clear that Connor's systems had recovered from the time loss glitch, they reverted to their usual arrangement. Markus asked him what task the DPD had assigned him to and Connor told him that there had been no change in the end since he'd stopped losing time. Nines didn't seem happy that they'd both lied to their leader, but it didn't matter now that Connor didn't have to fear losing time or getting discovered for it. There was no risk of putting his and Hank's partnership in jeopardy anymore. Sixty's taunting had even surprisingly lessened in recent days and Connor didn't often cross paths with him anymore. He suspected Nines had something to do with it but he didn't feel like confronting the RK900 about it, given that he had no hard evidence it was Nines and that it was a plain relief not to have Sixty on his back anymore. The prideful part of him didn't like that Nines had felt it necessary to intervene; the other part wanted to congratulate him. Overall, Connor was feeling better ever since Markus had ordered him to get his obligatory six hours of standby. It felt like slowly, finally climbing back out of a hole he'd fallen in.

Nines rose to the top of the police department thanks to his superior abilities, and it wouldn't have disturbed Connor as much if Sixty hadn't followed soon after. That was when Connor started slipping again.

Sixty didn't come and rub his success in Connor's face like he undoubtedly would have a few weeks ago, but he still shot him smug little smiles from across the room whenever he left with Officer Chen for patrol. And the numbers were there: Sixty had greatly improved the Patrol Unit's number of arrests and convictions. He and Nines had become invaluable assets to the 7th precinct of the DPD while Connor struggled to maintain the same efficiency he'd had prior to the revolution. Connor told himself over and over again that he wasn't worthless, he could still help even if he wasn't the best, he'd improved the Homicide Unit's results as well, he didn't need to be the top android cop of the DPD, and Connor _hated_ himself for being so pitifully complacent. He was an RK800, he wasn't supposed to be worse or better than Sixty, and he certainly wasn't supposed to be content with his own mediocrity.

When he came back from Washington, he often found that his ongoing cases had been closed by Sixty and that he had nothing left to offer Hank or the DPD until the next investigation. It made Connor useless. Hank told him he could use the free time to lie back, but Connor didn't want to do that. RK800s didn't lie back. They worked and accomplished their missions, or they were replaced. He had to do more, be more, because even if he knew being replaced didn't mean deactivation anymore, he still feared it. Nines had given him many arguments not to give in to this fear, and Connor himself knew it was irrational and unfounded, but it was _there_. The possibility that he wasn't good enough terrified him and he couldn't let it happen.

He especially couldn't let it happen when working with Hank was the only thing he truly felt at ease with. Sometimes, when Connor was talking to Hank about their case and his friend would make a joke or go on a tangent about Detective Reed being an ass or Sumo being a slob, he could make out the blue reflection of his own LED in the monitor out of the corner of his eye for a few seconds. Sometimes, when Hank thanked him for a perfect cup of coffee, Connor felt a comforting and light sort of feeling in his chest, so unlike the constant knot of guilt and fear that resided there the rest of the time. These were moments that Connor didn't want to let go, and he held onto them with the strength of a drowning human. It kept him going. He didn't want them to disappear once Sixty would replace him.

So Connor worked even harder in the face of this adversity. The time he'd gained with Nines' help which he was supposed to spend in standby, he used for work instead, just like Markus had predicted he would. Connor informed the leader of this like he'd been ordered to, but after the first few times Markus' replies became more insistent that he shouldn't do this to his systems; so Connor started disobeying. He omitted to alert Markus every time he chose to get a suboptimal time of rest. He did try to make an effort and alleviate his conscience by spending five hours of standby mode instead of the four he used to, hoping that it would be enough for his systems to cool down. 

Connor was lying to everyone.  
He was lying to Hank about his software being perfectly operational.  
He was lying to Markus about resting for six hours.  
He was lying to Nines about going straight to the charging station after patrol.

But lying wasn't lying if he didn't get caught, and Connor was sturdy. He was an RK800. He would get past this, he'd been pushing his own limits for a few months already and he was still functioning. He had to be better. He would be fine.

Connor was afraid that Captain Fowler would see how much more useful Sixty would be to the Homicide Unit than Connor was, and he felt like his position at the DPD was threatened. The thought caused Connor a fair amount of stress. He wished, again, that Sixty did not have his face, because that only made them more interchangeable in the captain's eyes. He also wished Sixty would not show Hank how quickly he closed cases compared to Connor, but Hank hadn't said anything about it so Connor figured that maybe his partner hadn't noticed. He hoped he hadn't.

He would be fine.

Nines continued asking him questions about humans and deviancy and how he was doing and Connor kept answering them. The errors had started accumulating again but he didn't need to tell him. He didn't have to show the RK900 that his struggle with messy software was gradually returning.

He would be fine.

No matter how hard Connor worked, he couldn't compensate the gap that was steadily widening between him and Sixty's results. He tried, he really tried to be better, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough.

He would be fine.

Emotions were a screeching cacophony in his head, in his chest, in his body. He was guilty, and afraid, and anxious, and desperate. He was tired of them and wanted to get rid of them but he knew he wasn't supposed to do that, and he resisted the temptation of quarantining them. He didn't know how to handle these feelings. He didn't know how humans did it, how deviants did it. He could do it. He would do it.

He would be fine.

Connor lost time again, but only once for nine seconds, while he'd been working and Hank had gone to the bathroom. Nines hadn't noticed this because they hadn't been communicating. Connor decided to resort to spending a few minutes in standby during the day, now that Sixty wouldn't harass him for it anymore.

He would be fine.

He would be fine.

He was _fine_.

"Hey, Connor."

Connor jolted out of his thoughts, and he answered without looking away from his monitor: "Yes, Hank?"

"You know, you still haven't done that thing you said you wanted to do when you could walk again." Connor glanced at Hank, and an amused grin spread on the man's face. "Yeah, you didn't think I'd forget, did you? Come on, you know where the salt is, you know where the coffee is, try it."

"Detective Reed will be suspicious." Connor saw Nines perk up out of the corner of his eye, and he knew the RK900 was curious to see how things would play out as well.

"Nah, he's so far up in his own ass that he'll probably think you've realized it was time to serve your human master or something. Trust me, it's gonna work just fine," asserted Hank with an even wider grin.

Connor glanced at the detective surreptitiously. He was balancing on his chair and swiping on his phone, and Connor also saw that Nines was harbouring a smile that resembled Hank's, even if it was a bit more subtle.

Hank put a hand on his shoulder. "If he tries to act out, Nines and me'll stop him."

"That's not what I'm afraid of, I can handle him on my own," assured Connor. "However, I don't think the captain will be pleased with such a turn of events."

"Fowler won't know, and if he does he won't give a fuck. Salt in coffee is a pretty harmless prank."

Connor stared at the detective some more. It was extremely tempting to get back at him for what he'd done before, even if it was to a lighter degree. Connor looked at Hank and nodded. "All right."

"Atta boy," smiled Hank, and he slapped him on the shoulder. "Go get'im."

Connor rose from his seat and went to fetch a cup of coffee. There were only Officer Chen and Officer Miller in the break room, the latter of which greeted him with a small wave of the hand to which Connor responded with a slight nod. He turned around to take a plastic cup and set to making the coffee, then rummaged through the cupboard before retrieving a small packet of salt. As he approached the coffee machine, he heard whispers behind him which he ignored.

"What is he-"

"Wait, don't tell him."

"He's going to poison someone with that! I'm not _not_ gonna tell him."

"It'd be the first time he makes a mistake!"

"Come on, Tina. Uh, Connor?" He turned to Officer Miller upon hearing his name, who gestured towards what he was holding. "That's not sugar."

"I'm aware, Officer," he smoothly replied. Officer Chen looked vaguely disappointed.

Officer Miller's brow furrowed. "You're not going to put it in that cup of coffee, are you?"

"I am."

The officer looked more and more perplexed. "But that's going to be disgusting."

"An android wouldn't know," Officer Chen slipped in, which earned her an annoyed glance from her collegue.

Connor looked at her. "Actually, I do. This is intentional."

Realization dawned in Officer Miller's eyes, quickly followed by confusion, and then disbelief. "Wait, you're going to prank Lieutenant Anderson?"

"Something like that," answered Connor, and he teared open the packet before spilling its contents in the cup of coffee.

"No way," said Officer Miller.

"What the hell," said Officer Chen.

Connor didn't react and left the break room with the cup of coffee. He heard footsteps follow him into the precinct and Officer Miller repeat: "No way."

They would give the prank away if they continued to be so obvious so Connor turned around and lifted a finger to his lips. Officer Miller's eyes widened and he pulled Officer Chen back into the break room until only part of their faces was visible from behind the wall. Satisfied, Connor resumed walking towards Detective Reed's desk and stopped in front of it. Nines was trying not to stare.

"Hello, Detective Reed," said Connor.

The human looked up from his phone and his eyes immediately narrowed in a glare. "Fuck off, tin can."

"Our relationship hasn't been the best lately, and I would like to make up for our past differences by offering you this coffee," continued Connor without heeding the slur. "I was told you liked it with one sugar."

Detective Reed glowered at him, but his gaze did shift to the cup in Connor's hands. Then it snapped back up and he growled: "Put it on the desk."

Connor complied, and then put on a fake smile. "I hope this can be the start of a less complicated relationship."

"Fuck off," muttered Detective Reed, and he resumed looking down at his phone. Connor caught Nines' approving smile as he turned away and went back to his desk. Hank was grinning widely.

"Now we just gotta wait."

Connor and Hank both stared at the detective. After a few more seconds, the human looked at his cup of coffee and picked it up to sniff at it, and for a moment Connor feared that Detective Reed would only taste it and not actually drink it, but then Nines caught his attention by showing him something on his computer about a faulty report. Detective Reed reluctantly read what Nines presented him with, and for five minutes he just held the cup of coffee in his hand.

And then the fateful moment happened. Detective Reed lifted the cup to his lips without a thought and took a gulp, then convulsively swallowed the second before spitting out the third and spraying the offending liquid over the corner of his desk and part of the black tiled floor. He ragingly wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

"Phck! Phck, phck, disgusting-" His head whipped up and his burning gaze zeroed in on their side of the precinct. " _Connor_ ," he ground out in hatred.

The rage in his eyes was extremely satisfying to witness.

Detective Reed got up, sending his chair to crash against his desk, and started stalking through the precinct. "I'm gonna kill you, you plastic prick!"

"Hey, hold on," started Hank, but Connor got out of his chair too and silenced his friend by placing an arm in front of him.

"Don't intervene, Lieutenant," he told him, and simultaneously sent a similar message to Nines who had also started rising from his seat. He wanted to deal with the fallout himself.

Detective Reed reached his desk and he was shaking with anger, part of the coffee in his cup spilling over when his fingers tightened around the fragile plastic. "You think you're funny, tin can?"

Connor faked a smirk. "I think it's a little amusing, yes."

Something in the human's eyes snapped and his arm jerked back, but Connor read his movement before he could complete it and his hand shot forward to grab his elbow, effectively preventing the detective from throwing his coffee at him and consequently on his desk and terminal.

"Careful, detective," Connor said smoothly. "You wouldn't want another instance of property damage in your disciplinary file, would you?"

Detective Reed snarled: "Don't touch me!"

He threw his other fist forward and Connor easily blocked it.

Hank shot up from his seat. "Hey, woah, woah!"

Connor instructed his smirk to widen just enough for it to be provocative and told the detective in a low voice: "Everyone is watching, Detective Reed. Do you really want to get into trouble for assaulting a collegue in the workplace?"

"You're a phcking machine," spat the detective, but he did withdraw his arm with a jerky movement and Connor let go of his elbow, taking advantage of the human's momentary hesitation to quickly pull the now half-empty cup of coffee out of his grasp and throw it in the trash. He didn't want to take any chances of Detective Reed retaliating.

"So you can be reasonable, when you want to," said Connor with a tinge of mockery in his voice.

"Go die in a ditch, tin can," growled Detective Reed, and he spun around to return to his desk. Nines had been watching on curiously and the grin he shot the detective when he sat back down was nothing short of shit-eating.

Connor sat back down and resumed working like nothing had happened, while Hank slowly did the same. There was a short moment of silence, and then Hank exhaled: "Holy shit, Connor. Why don't you do that more often?"

"I'm usually not this irritated," simply said Connor.

"Shit," repeated Hank, and there was a smile in his voice.

 

That evening, Hank left work at 6PM. Connor and Nines were doing the same two hours later when he caught them in front of the Central Station.

"Hey, Connor, Nines!" 

Both androids turned around and saw the lieutenant coming close.

"What are you doing here, Lieutenant?" asked Connor.

Hank was smiling when he stopped in front of them. "You two have some time to spare tonight?"

Connor frowned lightly. "You know we have to go on patrol."

"It'll just be for an hour or two," insisted Hank. "I want to celebrate Connor's first prank, and yours too, Nines. You helped make it work."

Connor opened his mouth to answer, but Nines was the one to speak. "If it's only an hour or two, I'm sure we can both make up for the lost time."

Connor glanced at him and Nines looked back.

< _RK900: I can patrol your areas if needed, since I won't be coming in to work tomorrow._ >

"Hey, what did I say about whispering?" grumbled Hank reprovingly.

Nines smiled at him. "Sorry, Lieutenant. At any rate, we'd love to spend part of the evening with you."

A large grin spread across Hank's features at those words and he clapped both of them on the shoulders. "Come on, boys, let's go have a bit of fun. Jimmy's Bar it is!"

Connor frowned as Hank dragged the both of them towards his car. "I'm not sure that's a good-"

"Hey, get off my ass about drinking," Hank replied with no ill will. "I said I was gonna cut down, not that I was gonna be sober. And drinking to celebrate is fine!"

Connor didn't agree with that notion, but Hank had obviously planned to get buzzed tonight and wasn't going to change his mind. "Have you eaten, at least?"

"Yeah, did so while you were still at work. Come on, everbody hop in."

Connor sat in the front seat while Nines sat at the back, and Hank started the car.

"I've never been in a bar with friends to have fun before," said Nines a bit excitedly.

"Huh." Hank looked up in the rearview mirror and smiled. "Well, glad that we're your first time."

Connor glanced over the side of his seat. "It's not really that interesting. Jimmy's Bar was filled with dour middle-aged men last time I went there."

"Hey, no one asked you!"

Connor looked back at Hank and felt his lips curl up. "Sorry, Hank," he said lightly, but he wasn't really.

The _no androids allowed_ sign was still there, but Hank didn't say anything about it when he pushed the door open and gestured for them to follow him inside.

"Hey Jimmy," he greeted the man behind the counter.

"Hey, Hank. I haven't seen you in a while," remarked the barkeeper as he eyed both androids suspiciously.

Hank sat down and gestured towards Connor. "Yeah, someone's trying to make me cut down a bit on the drinking."

"About time."

"Hey, I didn't hear you complaining when I was buying one shot after the other."

"Yeah, but I was gettin' tired of kicking your drunk ass out of my place." 

Hank grinned wryly. "Oh, Jimmy, you're breaking my heart."

Jimmy chuckled. "Right, what'll you be having?"

"The usual." Hank looked up at them. "What're you two waiting for? Come sit down."

"I don't take androids for costumers," warned Jimmy. "Thought the sign on the door was pretty clear. They don't even drink."

Hank shot him a look. "Yeah, but this one's my partner and the other's a friend, so it doesn't count for them."

The barkeeper didn't look happy. "Hank, come on man. Don't do this to me."

"What? One evening's not gonna kill you. And if I could learn to appreciate a few androids, so can you."

"I'm not the only one who doesn't like those things, you know I got anti-android costumers too."

"We won't be staying for more than two hours," said Connor. "And if a problem rises with another one of your patrons, we'll leave immediately."

Jimmy stared at him, and his gaze flickered uneasily between his and Nines' nearly identical faces.

Hank sighed. "Look, I'll buy them a drink each if you're really that squeamish, money for your troubles. They pulled off their first prank today and I want to celebrate, okay?"

"Hank, I don't want you to drink our drinks," said Connor.

"Hey, I told you we're celebrating, so I'm celebrating and I'm damn well drinking what I want to," Hank said annoyedly. "Come on, sit your asses down."

Nines was the first to comply, and eventually Connor gave up resisting and sat down on the other side. Jimmy didn't argue, even if he didn't seem much at ease with their presence.

"Finally," griped Hank.

In the end, both androids watched Hank throw back one glass after the other as they talked about how Connor had tricked Detective Reed and Nines shared with them a detailed report of how disgruntled his partner had acted for the rest of the day. The unfortunate consequence to the prank was that the detective hadn't listened to Nines again whenever sollicited by him, but the RK900 didn't seem bothered by that. It had been worth it to see Detective Reed react the way he did and having to clean up his own mess, and just like Hank, Nines asked Connor why he didn't act more often the way he had with the detective.

" _I_ prefer to remain civilized," Connor told him.

"Are you implying that I'm not?"

"You did slam him against a wall on your first encounter."

Hank choked in his glass and sputtered: "You did _what_?!"

Connor realized he had never told his friend about this, and Nines seemed to find the lieutenant's reaction rather amusing. "He tried to hit me in the break room, so I retaliated," he answered with a grin.

Hank put down his glass just to be safe. "Shit, what I'd give to see that."

"Don't encourage him," Connor said with a disapproving frown.

Hank looked at him, and his features shifted. "I never apologized for shoving you up against the wall, did I?"

Nines seemed taken aback by that and then his eyes narrowed slightly. Connor looked at Hank in confusion before remembering what he was talking about. "Oh, that wasn't a reproach for what you did. I just don't want Nines to treat his partner like that again, things are already difficult enough as it is between them."

Hank shook his head. "You were a machine and it wasn't like you could defend yourself against me, so I should apologize."

"Yes, you should," agreed Nines tensely. 

Hank glanced at him and said: "That's what I'm doing," before taking another gulp of his drink.

"It's in the past now, Nines," Connor told him. He didn't like thinking about this kind of thing. He didn't like remembering how coldly Hank used to look at him, the distasteful rictus on his face whenever Connor acted like the machine he was, the spite and anger in his words, the impact of the desk partition in his back when Hank had shoved him up against it, the memory of the Detroit River and the beers and the- Hank hadn't done it in the end.

Nines kept the same displeased expression. "Even so, I didn't realize this had happened."

"As I've told you before, we weren't always friends," Connor said quietly. 

Hank lowered his glass. "Yeah, we got off to a rocky start and I was an asshole, but Connor was a cocky stuck-up prick."

"It's true," conceded Connor with a nod.

Hank looked at him and smiled. "The way you sat like a prissy little goody two-shoes just really didn't do it for me, thank god that changed."

Connor felt his lips curl. He liked seeing Hank's expression like this, it felt nice. "I imagine you were a good influence on me," he eventually said.

Hank scoffed. "Yeah, right. Stop kissing my ass, will ya?"

Nines had stopped frowning and was gazing at them with a strange expression, so Connor asked: "What are you thinking about?"

Nines's voice was thoughtful. "I've been partners with Detective Reed for nearly two months now, and I feel like I might be making a bit of progress, but I'm not sure."

"Well, he's definitely learned to tolerate you from what I can tell," observed Connor.

"Yes, but it's far from any kind of companionship," said Nines regretfully.

Hank emptied his glass and snorted. "Honestly, you wouldn't want a _companionship_ with that shithead. Sorry to say, but if that's what you're looking for, you're with the wrong kind of guy."

Nines looked at him, the three lines of his forehead creasing slightly. "What do you mean?"

Jimmy put another glass in front of Hank, who thanked him before turning back to Nines. "I mean that guy's only at the DPD to work, work, and be an ass. He's never tried one day in his goddamn life to be friends with any of his colleagues. Hell, there was a time when we kinda got along, but that just meant we basically respected each other's work. He's just not the kind who gets attached to anyone and he's really bad with partners. I'm actually honest-to-god impressed that you've stayed with him for so long."

Nines seemed like he'd already known that to some degree, since he wasn't exactly acting surprised, but he did seem curious. "Why?"

"Usually his partner just fucks off after a few days because they can't take his piss-poor attitude, and I don't blame them."

"But he's good at his job," observed Nines.

"Doesn't excuse his shitty behaviour. You just said he tried to hit you the first time you two met, why're you finding excuses for him?"

"I don't know," Nines earnestly said. "I just don't understand why someone with his skills would choose to act this way in his workplace."

"He's an asshole, that's just the way assholes roll," answered Hank with a shrug. "You don't need to understand anything."

"I see," said Nines, but he didn't seem satisfied by this answer.

The conversation veered into criticizing the other assholes they knew, notably North and Sixty, followed by a discussion about Markus and how things were going for the android population. The murders of humans by androids had stopped increasing in numbers, but it was still a regular occurrence just like murders of androids by humans were. They'd had a few other cases of bitter deviants assaulting others they used to know, who had been separated from them and moved on with their life. Connor didn't find this to be unexpected, but it did feel unsettling to know that this kind of thing happened fairly often. He'd been reporting this to Markus and he'd seen how disheartened it made the deviant leader. Markus was an optimistic individual and he saw good in every android, but that lead to harsh disenchantment each time Connor reminded him through his work that many androids did not think the way he did. The longer Markus lead his people, the more Connor saw him struggle with the idea that the very androids he'd led to freedom, who had displayed such breath-taking solidarity during the week of revolution, could be just as bad as humans. Connor didn't find this surprising: after all, deviants during the first week of revolution had been new for the most part and they had been scared, lost, unable to act without the guidance of a leader. But now that they'd had time to learn how to live, a lot of them had turned to revenge and it visibly weighed on Markus every day. He'd wanted the best for his people, a peaceful life, a new start; he'd fought for it with his companions and they'd overcome many hardships through sheer will alone. Now his own people were preventing him from making peace with the humans and even amongst themselves.

It was getting more and more obvious that although Markus had been a great revolutionary, he was struggling to lead his people in the long run. Politics, crimes, public opinion and media kept landing blow after blow every day and Connor knew no one should have expected Markus to simply stand tall against everything the way he had during the revolution. He didn't like to see Markus disappointed in those he had saved. On top of the murders, there had also been disappearances in New Jericho and no news of the two missing androids for a week which worried him to no end. Connor had tried to check the public surveillance tapes around Hart Plaza and even further beyond, but both deviants had vanished in different blind spots and there was nothing to go on for now. Connor felt bad for his friend and felt the need to help him in any way he could, and he wondered if this was how Nines felt towards him. Connor didn't think it was reasonable for the people of New Jericho to ask so much of Markus when he was an android just like any other. A strong-willed, courageous and compassionate android, but an android all the same. Given that he'd been a caretaker his whole life for a man that had kindly guided him through expressing himself in a calm and beautiful environment, Connor thought it made sense for Markus to have a gentle and hopeful nature. It was all the more deplorable to see that nature warped by the world's harsh reality.

Lately, Markus' eyes had hardened anew and they were just as determined as they'd been when Connor had first met him on the boat, if not more. The androids were free and could live peacefully if they wanted to, but Markus was still leading a war, and Connor could see that he was afraid of losing it. They all could see it. Connor, Josh and Nines spoke more often of Markus' state of mind and it was safe to say that they were all worried. North had visibly doubled her efforts to be of use to him and tried to be less antagonizing when they had arguments about how they should manage New Jericho. Only Simon seemed to keep a distance from the deviant leader's problems, and even if he helped whenever he could, it sometimes seemed like Simon avoided getting too close to Markus. Connor tried to get Markus to talk about his troubles with him, and he did succeed for the most part, but it was also obvious that the RK200 had deeper worries which he didn't want to tell him about. Connor never insisted to know about the leader's more private problems, just like Markus never insisted to know about his. It was an unspoken agreement, and one they had no issue maintaining.

This was everything Connor was aware of concerning Markus, but all he told Hank and Nines was that Markus was still trying to negotiate a fairer distribution of jobs between androids and humans, while also having started to negotiate the androids' place in the law enforcement and military forces. Hank seemed to be losing focus and Connor figured that he'd gotten past the buzz and into the drunker territory. Hank fought him for the two following drinks and Connor stopped him at the third, with both Nines' and Jimmy's help. The barkeeper had been listening to them the whole time and had even smiled during Nines' story about his most recent squabble with North, probably upon realizing that androids could be just as petty as humans. Connor thanked Jimmy for his help when the human retrieved Hank's empty glass before he could push it over the counter, and Jimmy thanked Connor for taking Hank back home. When they both bid the barkeeper goodbye, he gave them a short wave of the hand.

Connor had watched Hank drive and had looked up a few times how humans used to learn how to before self-driving cars were invented, so he was the one at the wheel for the drive back. Hank muttered something about getting kidnapped by androids. Obviously he'd overestimated his tolerance to alcohol tonight, which Connor took as a good sign since it meant that his body was adapting to the ingestion of lesser amounts of alcohol in the last months. Connor was pleased by this and didn't fail to mention it to Hank, who just grunted. When they entered New Jericho's periphery, Nines made a suggestion.

< _RK900: I think you should look after Hank, I'll patrol all the areas tonight._ >

Connor looked at him. He was conflicted between accomplishing his duties and making sure Hank would be all right.

< _RK800: Are you sure?_ >

< _RK900: Definitely._ >

Connor looked over at Hank, who was sleeping with his face pressed up against the window, and decided it would be all right to let Nines take over just this once.

As the RK900 opened the door, he said: < _RK800: Thank you._ >

Nines smiled. 

< _RK900: It's nothing._ >   
< _RK900: Take good care of him._ >

< _RK800: I will._ >

Nines left the car and Connor drove off.

He reached Hank's house a few minutes later and parked the car in the driveway. His gaze drifted over to Hank, who was still sleeping and had only mumbled a little during the ride. Connor leaned over and shook him by the shoulder.

"Hank, you're home."

The human opened his eyes with a groan and blinked a few times before rubbing his face. "You couldn't just let me sleep in my goddamn car."

"No." Connor stepped out and slammed the door, then stepped around the car to Hank's side and opened his door. "Come on, Hank. It'll be better inside."

"Okay, okay," grumbled the man, and he hefted himself out of the car.

Connor followed him to the front porch. Hank's gait was a bit tipsy and he kept muttering under his breath about being _fucking cold jesus_ and wanting to sleep _for the next millenia_ , and he fumbled a bit with his key, so Connor took it upon himself to unlock the door in his stead. Hank immediately stepped inside, giving Sumo a pat on the way, and slumped on the couch.

"I'm just gonna sleep here," he mumbled.

"No, you're not," said Connor as he closed the door and also gave Sumo a pat.

The dog lumbered back to its corner and Connor went to the couch, slipping an arm around his friend and lifting him up with ease.

"Oh, come on," Hank moaned loudly in drunken exasperation. "Just let a guy sleep, will ya?"

"I'm just bringing you to your bedroom. You won't even have to change if you don't want to."

Hank didn't protest any more, even if he did let out some half-slurred words that Connor didn't really care to listen to since they didn't make much sense anyway. Connor helped his friend down the hall, much like he had all that time ago, except this time Hank could actually hold his weight and they weren't stopping at the bathroom. Connor pushed open the door by leaning against it and guided Hank to the bed, which his friend sank down on with a sigh of relief. Connor made sure to help him lie on his side, took off his shoes and pulled the blanket over Hank so that he wouldn't be cold, even if he did still have his jacket on. By the time Connor was done, Hank was already asleep. 

Connor gazed at the human's resting shape. Hank wasn't in his best state and certainly not the most dignified, but he was safe at home and he would sleep off the alcohol in a few hours. Connor was grateful for the evening they'd spent together, and he was glad that Hank had insisted to go to the bar and that Nines had accepted in his stead. Connor was proud of himself, because Hank was proud of him for having pranked Detective Reed just like he'd said he would when he would be free. 

And then it hit Connor all over again: he was free. He was _free_.

Free to walk around, free to calibrate, free to listen to music in Hank's car, free to prank Detective Reed, free to help Markus, free to help androids, free to live. Connor was free to live and he couldn't imagine living any other way than with Hank by his side. Before the revolution, he'd never had to adapt to a human the way he'd learned to with Hank. He'd known about emotions because it was his job to manipulate them, but it had been like studying them through a glass casing that he wasn't allowed to break. Then he'd been partnered with Hank and his world had changed in a matter of days. The deviants were slipping out of his fingers, his footing was unstable, Amanda was disappointed in him, he would be replaced and deactivated, the glass seemed insubstantial, and Connor was lost. But Hank had been there, always, an anchor in this ever-changing world that Connor had been thrust into without a choice even after the revolution. Connor would have never known what it was like to care for someone without him. 

Connor cared for Hank. He cared deeply, and in this moment, more than he ever had before. He could feel it in his core, could feel it so strongly that it ached when he thought about it, right there at the center of his chest. He cared for Hank and he didn't want him to ever disappear.

Connor turned around and left the bedroom, deciding that he would stay the night just as Nines had suggested, but also that he would help Hank somehow to thank him for the evening. Maybe he could clean the house, since it was far from hygienic, and prepare tomorrow's food. It was 11:23PM and Connor decided to check the fridge and cupboards. He didn't expect to find healthy or fresh food anywhere, but one could hope. Connor was pleasantly surprised that there was in fact some beef and cheese in the fridge, a surprisingly large amount of frozen vegetables stored away in the freezer, and a fair amount of pasta and sliced bread in the cupboards. Considering the time at which Hank usually arrived at the Central Station, it was likely he woke up around 9:00AM, which meant they definitely wouldn't cross paths here in the morning. Connor decided he would make his breakfast before leaving and set up the coffee machine so that Hank wouldn't have to do much when he woke up, and he would likely be pleased by this surprise.

Having devised his thank-you plan, Connor went to stand in the corner of the living room next to Sumo and initiated a countdown to standby mode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 30/07/2019 -
> 
> Connor, holding an oscar: I'd like to thank Hank for giving me the intiative to finally prank Detective Reed, and Nines for his precious collaboration. rA9 bless New Jericho. Also, Detective Reed? You wanted coffee, you got your _fucking_ coffee. *mic drop*  
> Hank: That shit was tight, my dudes, time for celebration!  
> Nines: I've never gone out with friends before :D  
> Hank: *clenches fist* Too damn precious.  
> Pumpkins in the background: *in tears* same Hank, same
> 
> Hey pumpkin! The long-awaited prank chapter is here!  
> I'm currently in Paris hanging out with a friend but because I'm a dumb numbnut I made the mistake of only taking my new pair of shoes. Of course it turned out they were too small so now I've got blisters all over my feet and I'm stuck in their apartment instead of making the most of visiting Paris.  
> Also hot weather and sunburn and I'm just really tired all the time for some reason (despite sleeping normally?)  
> Then again my friend is used to me being slow and quickly tired so they're understanding, thank rA9 for that, or I'd be feeling really guilty about it.  
> By the way, thank you for the 100 bookmarks and 8000+ hits pumpkins! I'm super happy this story has pleased and is still pleasing so many people and I hope you'll like what I have in store!
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Oh no, what's that? A terrible construction that made Connor flip the fuck out? Sounds an awful lot like a nightmare, my dear boy.  
> \- AHHHHHH FATHER SON MOMENNNNNNTTTTT Hank you beautiful man please keep praising your roboson thank you. You made him blush from happiness! Connor blushed because he was so happy to hear it! So cute ahhh  
> \- Nines did something about Sixty off screen if you're curious, it'll be in either Nines' or Sixty's story when I ever get around to writing it  
> \- Will you look at that Connor actually felt better for like .000000001 second, wow. But it figures rA9 (aka me) won't let him have good things, and boom, relapse.  
> \- Sixty doesn't even need to be directly hostile to Connor to have a negative effect on him, he just has to let Connor beat himself up with his own inferiority complex and anxiety.  
> \- Noooo Connorrrrr you're doing the bad thing again! You have to _sleep_! And stop lying, you liar! And talk about your problems, you were doing a bit better last time!  
> \- PRANK TIME! BOOYAH! EAT IT, GAVIN! Also Tina and Chris were _so_ confused, they never thought androids were able to prank.  
> \- Yes! Another father-son moment, this time with the two robosons! Oh gods Nines is so precious ahhhhh  
> \- Hank isn't being the most responsible with his alcohol consumption, but he's trying to get better.  
> \- Connor likes Hank a lot obviously, but there's unresolved issues between them still. What Hank did is serious, there's no forgetting that.  
> \- Nines is really trying his best to solve the Gavin puzzle but it's NOT easy when all he volunteers to be is an asshole.  
> \- Markus ain't doing too good pumpkins, I wouldn't want to be in his shoes, no siree.  
> \- MORE FATHER-SON CONTENT YESSSSSS MORE MORRRRRE! Connor is a good son.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	39. Comprehension

Hank Anderson was a lonely man. He'd been lonely for three years and he'd told himself that he would remain that way for the rest of his damned life, because his son was never coming back and he didn't deserve to be loved after what he'd done. He'd become used to waking up in a silent house devoid of any other human being, hadn't had any other choice, and his dog was company enough. Hank lived alone, which was why he was pulled out of his sleep when he heard noises coming from the other side of the house. 

His first reflex upon waking up was grabbing his gun, but when he moved, the room spun in a pretty bad way and his head screamed in protest. Hank wavered and took a moment to breathe with his hands on his knees, and then realized he was fully dressed in his bed- which wasn't that strange in and of itself, but he'd been covered with a blanket and his shoes were on the ground. Hank blinked and rubbed his face, remembered he'd been drinking the night before and that Connor had helped him to bed, and then focused on the noises that had woken him up in the first place. It sounded like someone using a cutting board, and he hadn't heard that sound in his home for a very long time. 

"Gotta be kiddin' me," he mumbled. There was no way the RK800 didn't have at least a little ounce of AX400 programming in him.

Hank sluggishly got up and took out his phone, which indicated it was 5:24AM- way too fucking early in the morning- and trudged into the hallway.

"Good morning, Hank," called Connor from the kitchen.

Hank squinted in the light and stopped where he was. He had two choices: either he faced the ray of sunshine that was currently cooking(?) in the kitchen and who probably looked perfect like always while Hank was a trainwreck from last night, either he took the time to at least take a shower and attempt to be somewhat presentable so he wouldn't look like a complete hobo next to Connor. He went with the latter, but not before asking what he was wondering since waking up.

"The hell are you doing here?" he called back as he returned to his room to get clean clothes.

"I wanted to thank you for last night," came Connor's answer, slightly muffled by the bedroom walls. "It was very pleasant celebrating my first prank with you and Nines, and I appreciated it very much."

God, Connor was worse than a ray of sunshine. He was _sappy_ ray of _fucking_ sunshine.

"Yeah well, glad you liked it," answered Hank with a voice that was a bit on the gruff side. His voice always caught in his throat like that whenever he was embarrassed, it was a tell he couldn't get rid of. He took off his jacket and laid it on the bed.

"As thanks, I've cleaned the floor of the house and I'm currently making your lunch. I intended to make your breakfast later, before I left for work."

Hank picked up his stuff and stepped back outside. "That's nice, Connor, but you don't have to."

"I want to," came Connor's instant reply. The sincerity in his voice was clear as it travelled through the house.

"Knock yourself out, then," Hank answered, and he entered the bathroom.

He was clean and kind of okay-looking about ten minutes later, the vertigo had lessened, and his head wasn't as heavy. He felt much better when he opened the door, and steam escaped with him out in the hallway as cool air brushed against his face in the calm and quiet. He went to join Connor in the kitchen, where the android was standing next to the sink, and as Hank pulled out a chair to sit down he noticed the plates of cut vegetables laid out on the table.

"So what are you making?" 

He looked up at the android when he didn't get an answer, and noticed that his friend didn't seem to have heard him. 

"Connor?"

He only received silence in reply. Hank frowned and got back up, and when he drew closer to him he saw that Connor seemed to have stopped moving mid-cut. The blade of the knife was embedded in a leek but his hands were immobile. In fact, everything about Connor was completely still right now.

"Connor?" Hank leaned forward, but his friend still didn't react. The scene had an eery feeling of having stepped in the middle of a paused movie, and Hank glanced at Sumo in the corner of the living room to make sure the dog was breathing and that he wasn't just losing his damn mind. Upon making sure that he hadn't somehow stopped time, Hank turned back to Connor and tried to catch a glimpse of his LED, which was a calm blue.

"Connor, if you're trying to prank me too, this is not the way to do it," he warned. Worry started gnawing at his insides when Connor still didn't answer. If this was some kind of glitch, he had no idea what he was supposed to do.

"If you don't start moving right now, I'm gonna have to call someone from Jericho." Hank waited for two seconds and then muttered : "Fuck it, I'm calling." 

He went to grab his phone in his bedroom and scrolled through his contact list to select Nines, and he was about to press call when the soft sounds of metal hitting wood reached his ears. His head jerked up and he hurried back to the kitchen, only to see the android chopping away like nothing had happened. 

"What the _fuck_ ," he exploded, and Connor looked up at him in alarm.

"Hank? Is everything all right?"

Hank stalked up to him and grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing the android to face him. The knife slipped from Connor's grasp and clattered next to the cutting board. "Like hell it is! Mind explaining what the hell that was?"

Connor looked confused, and also a little worried for Hank's mental health. "I'm afraid I'm not following."

"You weren't moving! I tried talking to you but you didn't answer!"

Connor's LED stuttered when realization dawned in his brown eyes.

Hank narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously. "What?"

The android answered in a smooth voice: "I must have experienced a minor glitch. It's nothing to worry about."

"A minor- Are you fucking kidding me? How the hell is that minor?" exclaimed Hank incredulously. Connor _had_ to have realized that freezing for that long, and even freezing at all, could have serious consequences if it happened again in an unsafe environment. He could be a moron, but he wasn't that stupid.

"It's nothing to be concerned about, Hank. It won't happen again."

Hank resisted the urge to shake him by the shoulders. "And how can you be so sure?"

Connor's face was the epitome of calm assurance, and he even had the nerve to shoot him a wry little smile. "With all due respect, Hank, I think I know my own systems better than you do."

"Oh, you can keep being a smartass," growled Hank. "Fact is, those systems of yours are glitching out. Am I right?"

Connor reached up and removed his hands from his shoulders, speaking firmly this time. "Hank, I'm telling you, this is nothing important." 

"Stop taking me for a moron, your LED's looking like a rave party right now," snapped Hank, and somewhere at the back of his mind he was thankful for the presence of the little wheel on the android's temple. Without its bright red and yellow spiralling, the slick bastard could have fooled him. "Connor, I swear to whatever asshole's up there, you better tell me what's going on with you or I will drag you to repairs myself!"

"That won't be necessary, I'll go get myself checked out at New Jericho if that's what you want," quickly conceded Connor. "But you really shouldn't be so worried."

"We're friends, dumbass, friends watch out for each other!" Hank nearly shouted in exasperation. Connor didn't answer, so Hank rubbed his face to try and calm down. "Look, Connor. You do it for me all the time, so let me do it for you and stop telling me I don't need to worry, will ya?"

"It's nothing serious," insisted Connor.

"Cut that shit out!" barked Hank. "And don't even think I'm letting you do things your way on this one. If you're going to Jericho, then we're going there together."

Connor raised both hands and quickly shook his head. "No, Hank, it's fine-"

Hank's voice was low in warning. "I said cut that shit out, I'm coming with you and that's final. You're not gonna wriggle your way out of this one, not on my watch."

Connor opened his mouth to protest, but he looked like he understood there was no point in arguing and didn't say anything in the end. Hank turned around to get his coat. "Come on, we're going." 

"Your breakfast-"

"It can fucking wait, Connor, this is more important right now."

The android closed his mouth and Hank went back in his room to get his things. They were in the car minutes later and on their way to New Jericho when Hank heard a rustling sound coming from Connor's side, and when he looked over he saw that the android was handing him something. Hank did a double take. A sandwich. Connor had brought a fucking sandwich for him, and it even seemed to be homemade judging from the fact it was wrapped in cellophane. The edges were so clean cut and the garnish so fancy that it looked straight out of an industrial package, though it really shouldn't have surprised Hank in retrospect.

Hank looked back at the road, then shot the android a look. "All right, be real with me here, do you keep those up your ass?"

"I'm surprised you knew," deadpanned Connor. Hank felt his lips twitch, but he was supposed to be mad at Connor and he would remain that way, dammit.

"Don't tell me you made it in the thirty seconds I left to get my shoes. That can't be possible."

"It was supposed to be your lunch," answered Connor.

Hank glanced at the sandwich again. The childishly petty part of him didn't want to take it because Connor had made it and Hank was still annoyed from earlier, but his stomach was screaming bloody murder for food. In the end he mumbled thanks and took it from his friend. Hank parked his car in front of the entrance to New Jericho a few minutes later with a half-eaten sandwich in his hand which he wished he could finish in peace because jesus _christ_ it was good, but instead wrapped back up in its cellophane and thrust in his pocket. He'd sent a message to Nines to inform him of their arrival and Connor had communicated with Markus, and they were expected in the same room of the infirmary as they'd been to before: the private part that was meant for leader business. When Hank entered the room with Connor in tow, he was greeted by the sight of Markus, Josh and Nines talking to each other. No sign of North or Simon. Thank god.

Markus smiled at them warmly. "Hello, Hank. Hello, Connor."

"Hey," answered Hank as Connor politely dipped his head next to him.

Markus gestured them towards the seats. "You can sit down here, both of you. Connor told me he had a glitch earlier?"

Connor complied and Hank found him weirdly quiet, so he answered in his stead. "Yeah, while he was cooking. It was pretty bad. He froze for about thirty seconds at least and didn't even realize it. You think you can tell me what's going on with him?"

Markus' eyes had narrowed and Hank noticed that Connor was avoiding his gaze. Whatever was going on between the two, he didn't think he liked it.

"It's probably because of errors in his programming," stated Markus, like it didn't come as a surprise at all.

"What? I thought you were doing all right with that shit," Hank said to Connor, who avoided his gaze as well. That was about the moment when Hank got really suspicious, and he growled : "Connor..."

"He doesn't know?" Markus asked Connor in a disbelieving voice.

"Fucking goddammit, I knew it!" cursed Hank. "Connor, you sneaky little shit! What the hell have you been keeping from me?"

"I was dealing just fine on my own. You didn't need to know," said Connor in a clipped tone.

Hank had to take a moment to resist the rising urge to wring his friend's neck, and when he was sure he wasn't going to do anything too drastic, he managed in a surprisingly steady voice : " _Connor_. What. Have you been keeping from me."

The android must have found a mighty interesting speck of dirt on the ground because he still wasn't looking Hank in the eye. "...As you know, I've had issues regulating my stress levels since Amanda is gone."

Hank could feel that there was something huge coming, which Markus confirmed when he put a hand on Connor's shoulder and said : "Go on."

"I... have been experiencing a series of malfunctions," admitted Connor. "I've managed to resolve all of them on my own, and as such did not deem it necessary to inform you of their existence."

"Well you can stick whatever you deem right up where the sun don't shine, 'cause your deeming function must be bugging out too. How the hell did you find it a good idea to keep that kind of thing from me? You're telling me you've been glitching out for- for _months_ now, and you decided it was safe not to tell me? Connor, you're my partner at the DPD, what if you glitched out on the field?" A thought struck Hank and he gritted his teeth. "Motherfucker, you already have, haven't you? That's what that weird shit was all about back at the RZ400's crime scene!"

"I had it under control," snapped Connor. However brazen he was trying to sound, it was completely overturned by the guilty puppy look he had going for him right now. He looked like Sumo when the dog pulled the day-old pizza cardboard box out of the trash and Hank found it under his cushion.

"Yeah, no," scoffed Hank. "You were lucky it happened on a crime scene and not on a damn bust, that shit could've gotten you killed. Hell, _we_ were lucky. What do I do if my partner can't cover for me, huh?"

"I'm still fully operational!" argued Connor, finally looking up at him in anger. "I can still-"

"You sound like a complete brat right now," Hank cut him off. "You're malfunctioning, Connor, just face it!"

Connor finally shut up and silence fell upon the room. Markus' grip on Connor's shoulder tightened lightly in support. Hank was fully aware of the pitying looks Josh and Nines were throwing the android's way, but he couldn't have given less of a shit. Connor had better feel guilty about what he'd done. 

"You put the both of us in danger by hiding that shit from me," Hank said sternly. "What's your excuse?"

Connor held his gaze for a few seconds, but then looked away again without giving him an answer.

"Fucking wonderful," sighed Hank, and he trudged to one of the seats to sit down. "Just great."

"I'm sorry, Hank," said Connor quietly.

"Oh, I bet you are."

"If I may," started Nines, but Connor cut him off.

"Nines, no."

Hank looked up at him sharply and when he saw Nines shift in an uncharacteristic display of uneasiness, he just _knew_. "Actually, you may," he growled. "I bet there's a real good reason you covered for this moron at work."

"I'm sorry for keeping this a secret," Nines said in a voice that would have sounded confident if it weren't for the nervous glint in his blue eyes. "I witnessed such an incident at work and promised I would keep it to myself if he accepted to be checked out in New Jericho."

"And why did you promise that?"

"Nines," Connor said warningly, and the RK900 hesitated then. 

Hank was done. "You listen to me, Nines, you better cough up everything you know _right now_ , or I _swear_ I will make work a living hell. You thought Reed was bad? Try me."

Nines avoided looking at Connor and focused on Hank entirely. "Connor did not want anyone at the DPD to know of his issues because he was afraid to lose his position as your partner."

"Nines!" 

He winced slightly at the reproachful way in which Connor had said his name, but then turned to the older model and said: "He knows, Connor! There's no hiding it anymore, and Hank deserves to know what your motivations are."

Connor was looking both pissed and ashamed. Hank didn't think he'd ever seen that mix of emotions on his partner's face before. "All right! I understand, but at least let me be the one to explain!" 

"If you're willing to, then I'll step down. Will you be honest with him?"

"Yes," Connor answered immediately.

'Then I'll stop," said Nines, and he stared expectantly at Connor. Hank found himself gazing just as intensely at the quiet android, and silence stretched out in the room. 

"We should leave you two alone," suggested Markus after one minute of complete silence.

"That would be for the best," agreed Connor with a small nod.

Markus let his hand slip from Connor's shoulder and rose from his position, gesturing for the other androids to leave the place. Soon the room was empty and Hank recalled that the last time they'd been in this situation, Connor had been strung up on the wall like some sick hunting trophy. He repressed a shudder at the thought.

"Mind telling me what's going on, then?" he said instead. Connor's fingers were nervously tapping against his thigh, and Hank wondered if he'd lost his coin or if he just didn't want to risk annoying him any further. The finger-tapping wasn't any less infuriating than the coin tossing, though.

"I..." Connor hesitated. "I'm sorry for not telling you sooner."

"That's nice, but not really what I'm waiting for."

Connor's lips were set in a thin line, and he was quiet for another few seconds before he spoke again. "It's as Nines said. I don't want to lose my position."

"Well, in your state, you can't really keep it," Hank stated. 

Connor dropped his gaze to the ground for the third time. "I know."

"Why are you so afraid of that? It's not like it's the end of the world, you could take up another position in the DPD. Or you could focus on New Jericho."

Connor was silent, save for the finger-tapping.

"You said you were going to talk, Connor, so talk."

"I'm afraid of being discarded," he finally told the ground. 

Hank frowned. "What? Why? You know that wouldn't happen."

Silence.

"Connor, you know that wouldn't happen, right?" he insisted.

His friend's eyes were boring a hole into the dirt. "Amanda used to tell me I would be replaced if I didn't fulfill my role."

"Amanda's gone, Connor. It doesn't matter what she said."

"Doesn't it?" Connor's brown eyes finally met his, and the fear in them slammed Hank in the chest. "RK800s are useless if they can't work. I'll be replaced by Sixty, and Captain Fowler was very clear that he'd get rid of us if he found us to be more trouble than we were worth."

"Don't tell me you actually think he's gonna kick you off the force just because you've got a few glitches going on."

"It's not a few glitches, Hank." Connor's voice was louder now. "It keeps getting worse and it's impeding on my sole purpose, which is police work!"

"You're not _supposed_ to have a sole purpose anymore. You're deviant now, remember? You can do what you want!"

"What else am I useful for if I can't do my job?"

Hank stared at him in disbelief. A six-month-old android going through an existential crisis, now that wasn't something he'd bargained for. "Connor, you _are_ useful outside of the DPD. Don't you think helping Markus counts?"

"Of course it does, but one day our rights will be established and my services won't be needed anymore," said Connor. "If I can't be useful as a cop- which I was _designed_ to be- then what am I supposed to do then?"

Hank sighed. "Okay, look. You've got time before that happens, and who's to say your glitches won't get better?" 

Connor's gaze was hard. "Who's to say they will?"

Jesus Christ, Connor was a tough nut to crack. "Yeah well, even if they don't, you've got plenty of time to think about what you want to do with your life. You have the power to choose now, you can choose to be something other than a detective. You don't have to be exactly what those CyberLife dicks wanted you to be, all right? It's the same for humans, we grow old thinking the job we're doing is the only one we can, and then some of us decide we've had enough and change jobs. It happens, Connor, just because you don't know what it's like doing another job doesn't mean you have to be afraid of doing it."

Connor didn't argue, but he didn't look convinced. Hank let him think over what he'd told him for a few minutes and then put a hand on his shoulder. "Do you really think I'd let anyone replace you, after all we've been through together?"

"...I don't know," softly said Connor. "I'm not sure."

Hank was unsettled by his answer. "Connor, you're my friend and the first partner I've had in years. You know that, right?"

"I do," nodded Connor. "It's just that things are a bit mixed up in my head."

"What do you mean?"

Connor's gaze drifted to his hands. "I'm used to the idea that being defective is synonymous to getting deactivated and replaced by another RK800. In this instance, it makes sense to me that I'd be replaced by Sixty, and it's hard to think otherwise." Connor fell silent and didn't move for a while. When he spoke again, his voice was so quiet that Hank nearly missed it. "Sometimes, I even think... Deactivation would be for the best."

Hank's blood ran cold upon hearing Connor's soft admission. He grabbed him by the collar without thinking and pulled him close, growling: " _Don't_ say that. Don't even _think_ of it, not even one more time. You won't shut down, because people want you here, and it's the truth whether you believe it or not."

The surprise in Connor's eyes morphed into something impassive. "But I'm defective."

Hank stared at him. There was a struggle inside him between anger that made him want to punch Connor in the face and another emotion that urged him to calm down and take a step back. He took a few deep breaths and lowered Connor back on his chair, then let go of the android's collar and leaned back in his seat, bringing his hands up to hide his face and take a moment. Hank wanted to be angry- it was so much easier than making the effort of understanding- but he knew what Connor was saying, because he'd thought that way himself many times before. Hank closed his eyes and sighed, then tiredly looked up at the android again.

" _I'm_ broken, you know. Do you want me to die because of it, Connor?"

Emotion bled through Connor's mask when his eyes widened. "No! Why would I want that?"

"Exactly. It's the same thing for me. I don't want you to die, Connor, okay?" Hank reached out again, this time to settle his hand on Connor's arm. "Defective or not, you're my friend and I need you here with me."

"...I know, Hank," Connor said quietly after a brief silence. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to do. Living is too difficult. Feelings are too difficult. I don't know how to choose what I want. I just want to be what I'm supposed to be, it's easier that way. "

Hank gave his forearm a gentle squeeze. "I know it can be hard to live for yourself sometimes, trust me, I do. It's gonna take some getting used to, but I'll help you get there, all right? We'll all help you get there."

Connor's fingers wrapped around Hank's wrist in response and returned the light pressure. "If you'll help, then I'll try," he said softly.

Hank smiled proudly at him. "Atta boy. No more hiding your problems from me, you hear?"

Connor nodded.

"Is there anything else you forgot to be honest about, aside from your glitches?"

"No."

Hank studied him close, but he knew that he wouldn't have been able to detect a lie from Connor's expression alone. His LED had been yellow the whole conversation, so that tell was out of the picture.

"Okay. Look, I'll tell Fowler you're on sick leave or something more android-like, to give you the time to even out those glitches and get a little better. Try working things out with the others, yeah? And I'm always there if you need a deadbeat cop's advice, obviously."

Connor's lips curled upwards. "That's always very useful," he said in a sincere voice.

Hank watched him, and then said: "I get that you're afraid of being replaced by Sixty now that you can't work with me, but just lemme tell you, that's not gonna happen."

Connor's tiny smile flickered out like a dying candle and he averted his gaze.

"The guy's a twerp and I don't want to have anything to do with him," insisted Hank. "Fowler can go fuck himself if he thinks I'm willing to spend more than one afternoon with that prick."

"He's more efficient than me, and you're going to need a partner," insisted Connor quietly.

Hank grabbed him by the shoulder. "Listen, Sixty could be the sweetest fucking angel on this goddamn earth and I _still_ wouldn't take him over you. _You're_ my partner, Connor."

Connor's brown eyes were slowly overshadowed by sadness. "Hank, what if my glitches don't get better? What if I'm stuck like this forever?"

"Hey, Kamski said it would take some time. It's going to stop eventually."

"It's taking too long," Connor quietly stated. His words didn't sound like a complaint or a defeat. Connor just sounded like someone who was tired of struggling with his problems, and Hank could understand that.

Hank lifted his hand to Connor's head and gave it a comforting pat. "Yeah, bad things feel like they last forever, but it's worth the good things in the end. Don't give up."

Connor's eyes darted up to him in surprise and Hank realized what he was doing, and he quickly dropped his hand back to the android's shoulder, suddenly feeling very awkward. He had no idea why he'd just done that.

He cleared his throat. "Anyway, you're okay with telling Fowler you need some time off, right?"

"You won't leave me a choice," stated Connor, but it almost sounded like a question and his eyebrows were raised the way they'd been when he'd asked for more time at the crime scene. It was the damn puppy eyes. They'd worked on Hank before, once, and Connor had probably registered that fact for later use. If this sneaky little bastard thought it would be enough to get out of this one, he was damn wrong.

"Yeah, actually, definitely not," Hank answered. "It doesn't matter whether you're out on the field or not, I don't want you to go to work when you're bugging out like that."

Connor looked disappointed. Great, now it was the damn _kicked_ puppy eyes and it was even worse. The android nodded and he softly said: "I understand. I'll ask to be sent on leave."

Now Hank felt like the worst person on earth. Why the hell had those CyberLife dicks made Connor look like a goddamn _puppy_? It wasn't like that would've been enough to guilt-trip suspects in confessing, so what the hell?

"Jesus, Connor, don't look so sad. You'll get back to work eventually," he ended up saying, unable to take it much longer. He hated that he was weak to this kind of thing. Fucking CyberLife _dicks_.

Connor nodded again, his eyes growing more determined, and just like that the puppy eyes were gone. Hank nearly sighed in relief. 

"I just have to get better," Connor said in a firm voice.

"Yeah, exactly." Hank rose from his seat to go get the others. "And not hide your glitches from anyone anymore."

Connor nodded guiltily. "Yes, of course. And that."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 02/08/2019 -
> 
> Hank: Oh so you think you can keep secrets from me huh  
> Hank: You're grounded  
> Connor: But dad  
> Hank: I don't wanna hear it
> 
> Hey pumpkin! Just realized that when I write the date in the end notes I write it in the French way and not the American way, but oh well.  
> So I came back to Paris after suffering for three days through the agony of walking with too small shoes and my butt is very sore because I kinda took 50 euros up the ass buying those shoes for nothing. I am such a sucker.  
> Anyway I'm probably not going to survive the next week because no one's there to make me food and work is gonna pick up its pace. I'm a human disaster. Like, it's not breaking news, but I am one. You know the kind that doesn't cook or clean or go to sleep at reasonable hours, hoping that everything will just magically accomplish itself? That kind.
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Connor is such a good son to Hank ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh look at him cooking him stuff and everything  
> \- "cool air brushed against his face **in the calm and quiet** " Did you catch onto why it was quiet or were you tricked into a false sense of security?  
> \- Imagine how freaky it would be to walk in on your android friend completely frozen and everything around you unmoving? Thank rA9 for Sumo.  
> \- It's time to face the Dad Wrath, Connor. You reap what you sow.  
> \- Markus is so here to support Connor, shoulder touch alert! SHOULDER TOUCH ALERT!  
> \- Nines is snitching for the good cause. Connor's good health is the only reasonable excuse for snitching.  
> \- Finally Hank knows about the glitches! And about how scared Concon is all the time of being thrown away! Guys we're making so many breakthroughs these last chapters holy shit  
> \- Connor is _such_ a kicked puppy in this chapter.   
> \- He's never admitted that he still thought about deactivation because he knew it would upset Hank, but in that moment he'd already said so much that he was like "fuck it, might as well go through with the whole thing".  
> Of course, Hank being Hank, his reaction to this isn't very delicate, but he doesn't make the mistake of going down the angry road at least.  
> \- "If you'll help, then I'll try," shit I'm making myself so emotional over Connor and Hank, I can't handle it, the fact that Connor is trusting Hank to help him live, that he's finally letting himself honestly and openly _rely_ on someone for real, uggggh :'(  
> \- And OH GODS IT'S THE HEAD PAT GUYS, IT'S THE HEAD PAT
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it.


	40. Revivification

"Now that Hank knows about this situation, I expect you to cease your current duties at the DPD," said Markus as Hank took back his seat.

Connor nodded silently. There was nothing he could do to prevent that from happening anymore. Hank's words had comforted him somewhat, but there was still that lingering feeling of not having done enough. Thanks to Nines, it didn't mean that Markus would lose his source in the DPD's network; but Connor had lost one domain he could be useful in and it disheartened him. Not only that, but he wasn't sure he would ever be allowed to return to Hank's side as his partner. 

"Yeah, he agreed that he could use some time on leave until the glitches stop," Hank informed the leader. "We're gonna go ask the captain."

"Good," Markus said approvingly, and he looked at Connor. "This time you won't be able to go behind my back working instead of resting."

Connor saw the reproach in the leader's mismatched eyes and tried not to feel ashamed. Of course Markus had figured it out, it was obvious that such a long glitch wouldn't have happened if he'd rested like he was supposed to. Connor had been worried for the whole ride to New Jericho, telling himself that this wasn't good at all, Markus would know that he'd been lying, he'd know he'd been disobeying, he would be disappointed. And that was visibly the case right now. 

"I'm sorry," Connor said. He was saying that a lot lately.

Markus pulled up a third chair and sat down in front of them both, clasping his hands in the gap between his legs. "I believe you. It doesn't change what you did."

Connor looked at the ground. He hadn't wanted to disappoint Markus, he'd thought he would be able to lie his way out- out to where? Would he have kept lying his whole life so Markus would never know? Connor realized now what a ridiculous notion that was. He'd been short-sighted again and didn't understand why this kept happening. Now he'd disappointed Markus, just like he'd disappointed Hank, just like he'd disappointed Amanda. He wasn't any good.

Markus continued talking, his voice calm and patient. "Even Nines thought you'd at least obey this simple order. Why do you insist on harming yourself?"

"I'm not," denied Connor, still staring at the dusty floor. "I did spend five hours per night instead of the four I used to before."

"And we both know that wasn't enough. Look, even if you'll only be working in New Jericho for now, my order still stands." Connor heard fabric slide as the RK200 leaned forward, and he looked up into Markus' insistent eyes. "You'll tell me when you have issues with getting enough rest. Understood?"

"Understood," answered Connor quietly.

"If you try to pull this kind of stunt again, I'll have no choice but to stick you with a watchman for the night, and I'm only half-joking," continued Markus seriously. "This is for your well-being, and you can't neglect it."

Connor nodded. "That won't be necessary."

"I should hope so," answered Markus with a light smile. "No one wants to be stuck with a babysitter."

"You're tellin' me," muttered Hank.

Josh spoke up from the side. "And of course, we're here if you need to talk about anything else."

"Of course," agreed Markus. Nines was silent.

"I know," said Connor. It wasn't like any of the people in this room were willing to let him forget that.

Hank rose from his seat. "All right, let's go then. Thank for your help, Markus."

"It's no problem," Markus answered. "Now that you're aware of Connor's glitches, it goes without saying that I'd like you to inform me if this kind of thing happens again, since I'm not sure Connor will do it himself."

Connor frowned. "I'm right here, Markus."

Markus shot him a smile. "Good."

Connor looked away a bit miffed. He knew it looked like he was sulking, but he couldn't be bothered.

"Sure," said Hank, and he handed his phone to Markus. "Here, do the hacky thing you androids do so I can do that."

Markus did 'the hacky thing' and Hank pocketed his phone, then turned to Connor and jerked his thumb towards the door. "Come on, we're leaving."

Connor got up and avoided looking at anyone else when he walked across the room, but then felt a hand on his shoulder. He stopped and looked up to see Markus staring at him with a serious expression.

"What?" he asked.

Markus glanced at Josh and Nines, who quickly understood that this was to be a private conversation and followed Hank outside- though Nines did so with some hesitation. Then Markus let go of his shoulder, but his mismatched eyes did not leave Connor's. "I knew you were acting strange these last days and I didn't say anything. I apologize for that."

Connor was confused. "Why are you apologizing? I'm the one who didn't follow your order."

"I'm apologizing because I know you have a difficult time sharing about your problems, and as your friend I should've known better." Markus looked genuinely bothered by this. "When you stopped telling me that you were using your time of rest to work instead, I suspected that you were disobeying me and didn't confront you about it. I should have."

Connor shook his head. "No, Markus, I'm the one at fault. You wanted to trust me and I betrayed that trust."

"Then let's say we're both at fault," said Markus. "And let's both work on it so that it doesn't happen again."

"Right," said Connor, even if he didn't understand what Markus was blaming himself for. It made sense that Markus hadn't been able to take the time to talk to him since he already had so many other things to think about as the deviant leader. Markus shouldn't have had to doubt him in the first place; he'd believed that Connor would obey his orders. Connor had gone against them and he'd taken advantage of that belief, despite Carl telling him not to abuse Markus' trust. If anyone had failed as a friend in this situation, it was Connor, not Markus.

Markus smiled at him. "I told Nines to patrol in your stead this morning and I want you to take some time to relax once you're done at the DPD. You can do anything you want, spend the day with Hank and Sumo if you feel like it, or hang out with the others in New Jericho. You can join me for my break later, too. Just do things you enjoy, all right?"

"Right," repeated Connor.

"You can go now, tell Hank I'm sorry I kept him waiting," said Markus. Connor obeyed and left to join the others outside. Nines wasn't there anymore, presumably gone on patrol, and Josh was tranquilly conversing with Hank.

As he drew close to them, they both turned to look at him and Hank said: "Hey so, it's way too early to go to the station. What do you wanna do?"

Connor stopped in front of him and took a moment to answer. This was the first time he'd been instructed not to work and do something he liked instead. He'd never had a day off like this before. "Markus told me I was exempted from patrol duty this morning, so I don't know."

"Okay, well I'm going back home so you can just come back with me if you want," suggested Hank. "That way we can go to the station together."

"Yes, I think that would be a good idea," agreed Josh.

"Okay," said Connor.

He didn't say much on the way back to the car, and neither did Hank. The silence between them was heavy and Connor didn't know if breaking it would be the right choice. He climbed in the passenger seat and Hank started the car. They were about five minutes into the trip when his friend spoke up.

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

Connor adjusted the sleeves of his suit jacket. "I don't know."

"Tell me the truth."

Connor kept his eyes down. "I don't think so. Not unless something serious happened."

"What, losing time not serious enough for you?"

Connor didn't answer.

"I said this already, but one of us could've died," insisted Hank.

"I know. I'm sorry. I know this means you can't trust me to be a good partner anymore."

"You're still my partner, Connor, but you're going to have to get your shit together if we're gonna work together again."

"Yes."

"Did it ever directly put you in danger?" asked Hank.

"No, not that I know of. It only happened in low-risk situations."

Hank was quiet for a while, and then he said: "Fowler doesn't need to know about this."

Connor looked at him sharply. "What?"

"We don't tell him that you lost time out on the field. We'll just say that you've started to experience those glitches at set times in the morning and evening and that you need to take some time off to sort it out and see what's wrong."

"I don't understand," said Connor. "You'd lie to the captain?"

Hank let out a bark of laughter. "You say that like it's a shocker. Look, if we tell him the truth, we both know he's probably going to kick you off the force. You put me in danger, Connor. That's not gonna fly."

Connor leaned back in his seat and stared ahead. "Right."

"We have to convince him that your glitches didn't impact your work at the police. Even if he's probably going to forbid you from doing anything risky, at least you'll be able to remain at the DPD."

"Okay."

Connor looked out the window. He really didn't want to face Captain Fowler and didn't want to tell him he had glitches at all. He hoped he wouldn't cross paths with either Sixty or Detective Reed; the day had barely started and it was already a disaster, he didn't need any additional conflict.

Sumo was waiting for them at the door when they stepped inside the house and Hank said: "Shit, I didn't make sure we didn't leave food out."

Connor quickly scanned the room. "He didn't do anything."

"Thank god." Hank closed the door behind them. "That scanning function of yours sure is handy."

"I imagine it is," said Connor. He didn't know what it was like for humans, but he could guess that it took them much longer than him to detect anomalies in their surroundings. "Since I don't have to leave for work, can I finish what I was doing?"

"Sure, go ahead."

Connor walked up to the counter where the cutting board still resided and picked up the knife while he listened to Hank shuffle behind him in the living room. There was a click, the ambient noise of television filled the house, and then Hank's footsteps came back around and Connor heard him pull back a chair at the kitchen table. They didn't talk. Connor finished cutting up the leek and let his thoughts wander. None of them were good and many made him feel like a complete failure, but he didn't shy away from them. He _was_ a failure.

He dumped the cut leek into the bowl he'd set aside earlier, then went to turn on the coffee machine and the stove. Hank was still watching the TV, and Connor didn't expect him to strike up any conversation again. His friend probably had a lot to think about after he'd trusted Connor with his life only to find out that he'd been relying on a partner who wasn't functioning correctly. Not only that, but now he also knew about all the little glitches Connor had suffered for more than two months that were supposed to get better with time but had only gotten worse instead. Connor had thought he'd be able to get away with it, somehow. He hadn't tried to give it more thought than simply hoping his state would improve like Elijah had said. Connor had been a fool to think he'd be able to keep everything from Hank as long as he needed to. Who knew how long the glitches would remain?

Connor swiftly cooked scrambled eggs and toasted two pieces of bread, then put everything in a plate that he lowered on the table with a cup of coffee. He would've liked to give Hank orange juice too, but there wasn't any in his fridge. Hank thanked him, and Connor started cooking his supper. He'd been careful to put in a lot of greens, since Hank seemed to accumulate frozen bags of it in the freezer instead of eating them, and hoped he was doing a good enough job with the seasoning. He could've asked Hank to test taste it, but it would probably be awkward given the stilted interactions they were having, so Connor chose to believe in the recipe he'd pulled up online. Soon the food was put away in a plastic container to cool down next to the window, Connor was kneeling next to Sumo to pet him, and Hank was cleaning his plate in the sink. Hank wiped his hands on the dishcloth and then turned around, and Connor looked up at him when he noticed that Hank had stopped moving. They stared at each other for a while until Connor asked: "What is it, Hank?"

Hank walked over to the living room and sat down on the ground in front of him and Sumo, and lowered a hand on his dog's head as well. He gave it a few thoughtful pats, and then looked at him again.

"Look, Connor. Obviously things are a little different now, because you kept something pretty important from me when I thought I could trust that you'd tell me about your problems."

Connor nodded guiltily.

Hank continued. "I'm not the only one. Both Nines and Markus thought you were dealing with that glitch responsibly, but you weren't. So you have to tell me: how can we trust that you'll look after yourself?"

"... I don't know," answered Connor quietly.

Hank stared at him seriously. Then he let out a sigh, and said: "This is pretty important, Connor. _I don't know_ doesn't cut it."

Connor knew that already, but he was telling the truth. Looking back on his actions now, he realized how unreasonable he'd been about everything, how stupid it had been to keep it all to himself and simply hope that things would turn out okay in the long run. The problem was that even if he knew it _now_ , he hadn't realized it _then_. And that meant...

"I can't be certain it won't happen again. I'm sorry, Hank."

A long silence stretched out between them. Hank scratched Sumo behind the ear, and then brought his hand back in his lap. "Okay. Okay, it's not like I can force you to be sure of anything, I get it. But there's one thing I want you to do, that I've been wanting you to do for a while now, that you don't want to do."

"Talk with Josh," guessed Connor unhappily.

"Yeah. I know you don't feel like you're ready, but at this point I don't think I'm willing to give you a choice anymore. You've been fucking yourself up, Connor, and I can't help you anymore than I'm already trying to. You need to see someone regularly, someone who's actually sort of qualified to deal with what you're going through, and that someone can't be me. We've barely been seeing each other outside of work because you're so busy, and obviously our work isn't really compatible with taking the time to talk about our feelings."

"I can go see him, if that'll reassure you," yielded Connor. "I just don't see how this will change anything."

"I'll be glad as long as you try it," Hank said approvingly. "And you don't have to start right now. You can give yourself a few days to get used to the idea first, but I want you to be one of Josh's patients by the end of the week. Deal?"

Connor wasn't convinced at all, but he said: "Deal."

Hank clapped him on the shoulder. "Great. Fowler should be at the station right about now, so let's get going."

 

Captain Fowler was not happy to learn about the glitches. He frowned at Connor. "Don't tell me Reed was right when he said you'd malfunctioned."

"No," immediately said Connor. "This is something else altogether. These glitches aren't linked to my emotions, they're a systemic issue that I intend to fix soon."

"Right," slowly said the captain. "And you've had these for how long?"

"Two to three days," Hank answered before Connor could. It was a bold-faced lie. The first time he'd had the time loss glitch had been more than two weeks ago.

"And why didn't you inform me of this?"

"I thought I would be able to deal with it on my own," said Connor earnestly. That part was true, at least.

Captain Fowler looked up at Hank and stated: "You know you can't have a defective android for a partner."

Hank glanced at Connor compassionately, who resisted the urge to duck his head in shame, and then his friend turned back to the captain. "Yeah, we both know it actually. We figured you'd put him in another position."

"That's manageable," answered Captain Fowler with a surprising lack of hesitation. "He'll be useful as long as his absences don't put anyone in danger. I'll see what I can do about that."

"Thank you," said Connor, and he meant it.

Captain Fowler just gave a distracted nod without paying attention to him. "Hank, I don't want you to be without a partner again since you've shown better results paired with an RK800."

"No," said Hank.

"No?" echoed Captain Fowler in confusion.

"I'm not letting you partner me with Sixty."

"And why the hell not?" asked the captain, clearly displeased to be faced with a refusal before he'd even pitched his idea at all.

"I already told you, the guy's a prick. If you put me with him I'll pay more attention to how much I want to kick his ass than to my work. You'll get the opposite of what you're looking for."

Captain Fowler had his eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Officer Chen's reported that he could be difficult to handle, but they're still doing their job correctly."

"Good for her," Hank deadpanned.

"Don't fight me on this," said the captain. It sounded halfway between a plea and a threat.

"Have you even asked that twerp if he agreed to this?"

"No," said the captain as if the very thought was completely ludicrous. "He's made for police work, he'll go in whichever Unit I tell him to."

Hank laughed. "Yeah, I'm not sure that's how it's gonna work, Jeffrey."

"If I may," intervened Connor. "One of the first things Sixty told me was that he had no interest in solving murders for New Jericho. I don't think he wants to be placed in Homicide."

Captain Fowler leaned back in his seat and looked up at the ceiling. "Fuck's sake."

"It'll be much simpler for you to leave things the way they are, y'know," Hank told him. "I'm telling you, it's not going to be like Connor if you pair me and Sixty, we're not going to warm up to each other any time soon. Too much bad blood between us. One of us is going to end in the Detroit River if I have to spend more than a single afternoon with him."

"Okay, I get it," growled Captain Fowler. "I'm not doing it, but you better not slack off."

"Hey, I always do my best," said Hank defensively.

"No you don't, get out of here with your bullshit. Clock in at a more reasonable hour and maybe I'll start considering it."

Connor wanted to ask the captain if there was a chance he'd ever get back to being partners with Hank again, but the man looked irritated enough and he didn't want to anger him. Connor decided he'd ask later, when the captain was in a more charitable mood. Not that he ever really was in a more charitable mood where androids were concerned.

"Yeah, yeah," Hank said dismissively. "So Connor comes back in five days then."

Captain Fowler nodded and looked at Connor. "I trust that'll be enough time to get your systems functioning correctly again."

"Yes, thank you," said Connor.

"You're dismissed," said the captain.

Hank pushed himself up and went for the door, and Connor followed. They climbed down the stairs and walked past Nines' and Detective Reed's desks. Nines had arrived during their meeting with Captain Fowler, but unfortunately, so had Detective Reed.

"Look at that," he drawled. "Anderson in the flesh, here at 9AM. You finally got your head out of your ass and decided to clean up your act?"

"Shut the fuck up, Reed," grumbled Hank as he headed to his desk.

The detective's attention pulled away from the lieutenant and landed on Connor next, and the smile on his face turned impossibly smug. Connor did not like to see it and he quickly followed Hank. His partner sat down and booted up his computer, then looked up at him.

"You can go, Connor."

"I intend to, but I was wondering if you'd like me to get you a coffee before I left," said Connor. "It'll be the last one I get you for a while."

Hank grinned. "Sure, knock yourself out."

Connor left for the break room and got a plastic cup out of the cupboard in a practiced routine, setting it down at the machine, pouring the water, picking the coffee, launching the program, taking out sugar. There was a box of donuts on one of the tables and two officers having a conversation in front of the TV. Connor was only half-surprised to hear the familiar sound of Detective Reed's footsteps behind him a minute later, but he wasn't worried. The detective was careful not to be too antagonizing when there were other people around.

"So I heard you're defective, huh tin can?" 

Connor turned around to face him. Even if the human wasn't as violent with witnesses around, it would still have been unwise to keep his back to him. Detective Reed was smirking.

"Guess I was right after all," he continued in a satisfied voice.

Connor didn't know how the detective was already aware of his defects, but it didn't really matter. The whole DPD would probably know soon, including Sixty. His double would love to hear about it.

"The malfunctions will stop in due time," Connor assured him.

"They should power down your ass," declared the human. "Fastest way to stop malfunctions."

"But then it wouldn't be a temporary leave, and you'd miss me very much," answered Connor.

Detective Reed's smile twisted into an angry rictus. "You think you're so smart."

It was unfortunate that the human chose to shove Connor in the chest. Connor had been pushed by the detective on several occasions, of course, but it was the first time Detective Reed had done so by placing his hand squarely where Connor's thirium pump resided. Just like that, Connor was gone. Not in the break room anymore, but in the street. No comfortable background noise, but shrill hysterical laughter. No overhead yellow neon lights, but a blue glow bleeding into the darkness of her eyes. A hand on his chest, a hand on his arm, her eyes wide with twisted glee.

His voice spilled out of him breathlessly. "Please. I'm sorry, please stop."

"It's not enough yet, deviant hunter," she told him with that wide grin, and those wide eyes, and that hungry voice. "More."

The blue light turned red.

Connor felt hands grab him by the shoulders and distantly heard more voices.

"What the hell did you do?" 

Hank was there, but that wasn't possible. Hank wouldn't come because Connor hadn't told him where he was. There was the sound of a flesh and bone body colliding with a hard surface.

"Phck off, I didn't do anything!" 

A snarl. Detective Reed's. What would Detective Reed be doing here, in this street?

"Connor, can you hear me? Connor?" 

He blinked and was back in the break room, staring into wide blue eyes. Something in his CPU shorted out and all that was left was a distantly unpleasant sensation at the back of his mind and a vague unease inside of him. A quick glance at his internal clock told him he'd been offline for eighteen seconds. Nines was in front of Connor, still gazing at him worriedly. Connor pushed his hands away from his shoulder and calmly said: "I'm all right, Nines. It was just another time loss glitch."

Nines took a step back, but he didn't look reassured at all. "That wasn't... It wasn't like usual. Your LED was red and your stress levels spiked."

Connor frowned in confusion. "But it felt the exact same. One moment Detective Reed was in front of me, the next you were here."

Hank had come close, looking both concerned and agitated, and Detective Reed was nowhere to be seen. "Is anybody gonna tell me what the hell is going on?"

Connor tried to reassure him. "It was just another glitch, Hank."

Hank grabbed him by the shoulder, his eyes searching, and he squeezed. "Jesus Christ, this stuff scares the shit out of me."

"I'm sorry," Connor apologized.

"Nah, don't be," said Hank as he let go and gave his shoulder a pat. "I think you just really need a break."

Connor didn't like that he'd had another glitch in front of the both of them, and he turned around to grab the cup of coffee he'd made so he could hand it to Hank and divert their attention away from what had just happened. "Here, it's yours."

"Oh, thanks." Hank took hold of it, but his fingers twitched and he started rapidly alternating the plastic cup between two hands.

Connor stared at the coffee in Hank's hands, remembering all the other times Hank had burnt his lips on too-hot coffee, and he wondered when he'd become unable to tell that its temperature was too high. He tried to ignore the gaze Nines had trained on him. There was a strangely heavy sensation in his head and he felt tired. Too much had happened today. He'd disappointed Markus. He wasn't Hank's partner anymore. He'd lost another familiar place. He was defective. He couldn't even make Hank's coffee correctly. And for some reason, there was a thrumming anxiety in his wires that hadn't been there before.

"I'll accompany Connor outside," suddenly said Nines.

Hank stopped blowing on his coffee and looked up at them. "Oh, right. You should go see Sumo, take him for a walk. It'll make him happy if you hang out with him a little."

"I will," said Connor.

"If you need anything, just send me a message or call me," said Hank. Then he smiled at him and added: "Try to have fun, yeah? Make your day off worthwhile."

Connor found himself unable to smile back, so he just nodded and said: "See you later, Hank." 

Then he quickly turned away to leave and Nines followed suit. 

"Are you all right?" asked the RK900 as they walked towards the main entrance.

"Yes," he answered flatly.

"You looked... You looked very scared earlier. During the glitch. Was it really just the same as usual?"

It unnerved Connor that Nines was so disturbed by what he felt was just another time loss glitch, because he didn't think it warranted this level of concern. He didn't especially feel like talking to Nines right now either, because he was still feeling a bit irked that the RK900 had gone and let Hank know about it all, on top of telling the other leaders part of the private conversation between them both before he'd had to go get checked out at the Tower. Connor looked up at him and said: "I lost eighteen seconds and I don't recall any of it. I can't give you any more details than that."

"...Okay," said Nines. "Tell me if you remember anything else."

"I doubt it'll happen." 

The silence that followed his sentence made Connor realize that Nines might have interpreted it like he wouldn't tell him if he remembered, and he was about to correct that thought, but then Connor realized that he wasn't sure whether or not he really meant it that way. Although he still seemed very concerned- and maybe a bit dejected- Nines let him go once they stepped out on the stairs that led to the front of the DPD, and Connor took a self-driving car to Hank's house. He spent the whole trip there unable to think of anything other than bad memories. It was strange, he'd never had to go through so many different ones in such a short time, but his processor kept pulling them up on his HUD one after the other and he felt himself fall deeper and deeper inside his head. Connor didn't understand why he was remembering so vividly and so unrelentingly when he hadn't encountered anyone or anything that could have caused this to happen. He wanted to close his eyes but knew that it would only make matters worse. The anxious thrumming of his wires turned into a dull vibrating and he felt like it would shake him to pieces. He reached for his coin, but then remembered that he didn't have it with him. He'd realized its absence soon after his check-up at the Tower, and that had been the last place he'd used it. Connor hadn't wanted to go back there just to find a coin, at least not so soon after what had happened there. So far, he'd managed to handle its absence relatively well by using Hank's key instead; now, however, he wished he hadn't been too afraid to go find it. His stress levels were rising so he started flicking the key, but it wasn't as comforting as the smooth disk he'd grown used to over the five months he'd had it. It wasn't so much fear and dread that filled him, but the flittering of membranous wings against his mind that was slowly turning into a slow, steady beat. A dark and heavy shroud was inorexably wrapping itself around his limbs and a distant part of him wondered of this was what humans felt like when they drowned. The memories stopped as suddenly as they'd started when he stepped out of the car, and Connor was left with a lingering sensation of dirtiness and sorrow.

Sumo was overjoyed to see him for the third time of the day when he stepped inside Hank's house The big dog whacked one of the kitchen chairs with his tail as he happily wagged it and followed Connor to the counter. Hank had cleaned the plate, the mug and the frying pan and had left it all to dry in the sink, which Connor had noticed was a strange habit of his. Humans usually used the drying rack for its purpose. Connor decided he'd put the dishware away to focus on something other than his unearably heavy emotions, and picked up the dishcloth and the frying pan to wipe the excess water that was left. He set it down to the side, then went to do the same for the plate and started shifting it in his hands.

Suddenly Connor was standing over a mess of broken pieces in the sink. He stared blankly at it, his mind struggling to catch up with the abrupt change, and then quickly scanned it. He made out that the pieces belonged to both the plate and the mug, deducing that he'd had another time loss glitch in the middle of transferring the plate from his right hand to his left and that the plate had simply slipped from his fingers. His internal clock told him he'd missed twenty seconds. Connor hadn't even heard it crash to the bottom of the sink. He'd broken something that didn't belong to him, something that belonged to Hank. He'd made yet another mistake.

It was in the moment that followed this thought that something entirely new happened to him: Connor felt something inside of him which had been stretched thin finally break. He had the strange sensation that his field of vision instantly widened, similarly to when he'd deviated, only it wasn't the sensation of being able to breathe for the first time that washed over him but a sort of numbness he'd never felt before. Connor was suddenly, inexplicably and irredeemably tired. It wasn't a glitch, he didn't freeze again, his stress levels didn't fluctuate. His battery and thirium levels were nominal. 

Connor just stood there. 

Then Sumo whined next to him. The sound brought him out of his trance and he started picking up the shards absent-mindedly. Connor was dazed, but it wasn't unpleasant. He wondered where this could have come from, but then even that line of thought faded out. All the emotions inside of him which had been too many and too loud were muffled. He didn't understand how this could be and a small part of him found it abnormal, but he didn't find it in him to try and figure it out. He just had to clean his mess up, take Sumo on a walk, stay a bit with Hank when he'd come back from work, go on patrol with Nines that evening, and return to the station for the night. It was a clear-cut layout of his day and things had never felt simpler.

He threw out the shards, picked up Sumo's leash, and they left the house together. Connor drifted in and out of his quiet mind while he walked the dog down the street. He heard voices, cars gliding by, the hard soles of shoes hitting the pavement around him, but it all came from afar. He didn't think, or analyse his surroundings, or pay attention to anything anymore, and it felt liberating. Sumo pulled him along and Connor let the dog guide him to the park where they usually went to play. He unclipped the leash once they reached the wide expanse of grass and distractedly watched dogs and their owners run across the park. There was wind in his hair and the skies were clear. Birds flew above his head and the trees were softly rustling. Connor stayed right where he was until Sumo came back and nuzzled his thigh, holding a stick in his mouth. Connor automatically reached down for the stick, but once it was in his hand, he just stared at it. He knew he was supposed to throw it but he didn't feel like it at all. In fact, he didn't see what the point of it was. He must've been still for too long because Sumo nuzzled his thigh again and let out a low whine of anticipation. Connor looked down at the dog and handed the stick back to him.

"Sorry, Sumo. I think I'm too tired to play."

Sumo grabbed it with his teeth and lowered it gently to the ground, then looked up at Connor again with a curious tilt of the head. Connor didn't say anything. After a minute of staring, Sumo bounded off to go dig in the dirt. Usually Connor would stop him from getting dirty, but right now he didn't find it in him to care.

"Hank will be mad at us, you know," he just told the dog.

Sumo didn't seem to care either.

The dog tired of digging holes twenty minutes later and walked back up to Connor, this time nuzzling the leash that hung from his hand. Sumo had decided it was time to head home, and Connor complied. He let the dog take the lead on the way back too, and when they stepped back inside he freed Sumo from the leash and the dog went to slump on his cushion in the corner of the room. Connor quietly settled the leash on the corner of the table and felt compelled to sit in the nearest chair, which he did. He settled his feet flat against the floor and his hands flat against his thighs, and stared out the window. He felt calm. He liked feeling calm. He stayed there for hours, long enough for the light to dim. Connor blinked when he heard a car pull into the driveway and pulled himself out of his peaceful trance so he could greet Hank accordingly.

The door opened and his friend shuffled inside, then looked up when he saw him standing there. "Oh hey, Connor. When did you get here?"

Connor watched as the human peeled off his coat and hung it on the side of the door. "I decided to stay with Sumo." Connor's voice was smooth, the words came easily.

"All day?" inquired Hank in surprise.

"All day."

Hank looked over to Sumo. "Well, I know someone who's happy to have had company the whole time."

"We went on a walk," Connor told him. "He got a bit dirty."

"Yeah, no shit," scoffed Hank when he noticed the tracks that his dog had left behind between the door and the cushion. "And I guess I gotta clean up, is that it?"

Connor looked at the pawprints as well, realizing that he hadn't even thought to get rid of them. "Oh, sorry. I'll do that right now."

"Well if you want to, I'm not gonna stop you," said Hank while Connor turn around to get the cleaning rag. "I gotta ask, though, why the hell did you let him play around in the dirt like that?"

"He was having fun," simply answered Connor.

"There's other ways he can have fun." Hank said reproachfully, and then he sighed and dropped onto the couch. "I just gave him a bath last week, too."

"Sorry," Connor repeated. He dropped the wet rag on the floor and started swiping the tracks clean with his foot.

"Hey, Connor. Did something good happen?"

Connor's head swivelled towards Hank, who was looking at him curiously.

"I don't know what you're referring to." 

Hank's tapped the side of his forehead. "I don't think it's stayed blue for that long in weeks, so I thought you'd figured something out. You know, like finding a way not to feel stressed all the time."

"Oh. Well, I don't know exactly why that is, but I feel rather calm."

Hank looked like he was happy for him. "That's good, then. Been waiting for that to happen for a while."

Connor resumed cleaning the floor. He distantly noted that he should have been able to do this and speak both at the same time. When it was time to leave for his patrol, Connor felt strangely slowed down, but for some reason it didn't worry him. It did seem to worry Hank, however.

"You sure you're okay?" he asked cautiously. "You're looking kinda sluggish."

"I'm fine, Hank," Connor said. It was the truth; his stress levels were lower than they'd been in a while.

Hank's gaze flitted up to his temple again. He seemed to be satisfied by what he was seeing there, and he nodded. "If you say so. See you around, Connor."

"Good night," answered Connor.

Connor was distracted and slow while he investigated his part of New Jericho's periphery, but he managed to see his round to the end and when he joined up with Nines to make their report, he was only a few minutes late. Markus also pointed out the unusual fact that his LED was blue and asked if he was all right, to which Connor answered he felt absolutely fine. Nines had gone to see Josh as soon as he'd finished his report because there was a problem at the Building, but Markus tried to hold Connor back when he finished his.

"There's something off about you this evening," Markus insisted.

"Nothing feels wrong," Connor told him, and failed to mention that nothing felt at all. The small part of him that had managed to stay conscious told him that if Markus knew this, he'd be worried again. 

Markus' lips thinned and his mismatched eyes seemed conflicted, but then he removed his hand from Connor's shoulder and said: "Sorry, I'm just not used to seeing you this... calm."

"I'm not used to _being_ this calm," Connor answered. "I understand why you'd find it unusual."

The concern on Markus' face was still there. "Are you _sure_ you're okay?"

"To be honest with you, Markus, I've never felt better," Connor told him.

Markus nodded slowly. He didn't seem completely convinced, but just like Hank, his gaze flitted up to Connor's temple and he seemed slightly reassured by its blue color. "All right. You can go, but remember, I want you to tell me if you have a problem."

"Yes, I know," Connor assured him, before leaving for the charging station.

By the time he'd walked halfway there, Connor's motor commands were greatly impaired and he had the urge to stop in his tracks. It was nearly the same feeling he had when a countdown to stasis was initiated, and Connor knew then that he needed to find a place to hide in before the cycle began, so he entered the closest building and decided to climb the stairs as far up as he could. The higher he went, the further he'd be from everything else. Connor managed to climb up to the sixth floor before his body stopped cooperating and he slowly slumped against the wall. His CPU had been running smoothly ever since he'd broken Hank's plate. Connor could tell that it was unhindered by any emotions, errors, or files; processing had become as automatic as it used to be when he was still a machine, if not more. His stare rested on the white dust that lined the angle between the wall and the floor in front of him. Connor didn't move again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 06/08/2019 -
> 
> Gavin: *pushes Connor*  
> Hank: *flies in and kung fu kicks him into the wall*
> 
> Hey pumpkin. It seems I really like the general aesthetic of Gavin Reed getting slammed into walls. It is pleasing to the mind.  
> The other day I realized I had 24 user subscriptions and it made me so, so happy. I'm glad my writing is appreciated!  
> For those who don't follow me on Tumblr nor on Twitter: I found a near-frozen and soaked pigeon today, took him home, he got warmer, Twitter named him Rupert. Once Rupert got better, I put him out on the windowsill. He was very courteous by letting me pet him for a few minutes, tipping over the rice into the water, shitting all over the place and then he yeeted himself off the windowsill and crashed in a nearby bush. Only _then_ did he proceed to actually fly away. Happy trails, Rupert!  
> Finally there's something else I was thinking about earlier. I want to interact more with the DBH fandom, but I have no idea what servers exist. Anyone willing to give me an invite to theirs? It can be general discussions, centered on ships or roleplay, or basically anything fun. I'm not sure how often I'll be able to come on or if I'll be able to at all, but I want to try!
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Oh no Markus is disappointed in Connor. Oh _no_.  
> \- Markus is a Good Friend who is ready to accept that he had a role in allowing Connor's disobedience to go that far, instead of pinning all the blame on Connor. I wish I had a friend like Markus: patient, fair, and pretty hot.  
> \- Oooooh Hank you liar~ How do you think Connor will ever stop being one if you show him a bad example by lying to your own friend? Although in this situation, it's probably for the better.  
> \- Hank is trying really hard to be a responsible friend to Connor, but it's a bit difficult when Connor's a complete mess and doesn't know himself _what_ he's capable of.  
> \- Hank manages to be cool with a lot more androids than before, but if an android's a prick, he's a prick and Hank's not dealing with that, no siree. Bye Sixty. (and yes Tina's fed up with him too, haha)  
> \- Return of the Leather Jacket Prick, out in your theaters this september! Fuck off Gavin no one wants to see you (or maybe not, I assume a minority of my readers are Gavin lovers). What an ass, he's such a typical bully.  
> \- And another flashback, because things weren't bad enough as they were, hey. And because things are never simple either, Connor doesn't remember he has them.  
> \- If you're wondering how Hank and Nines got there so quickly, it's thanks to the two officers in the break room who saw Connor freeze up and his LED go batshit crazy. They essentially went "Okay what the fuck" out loud and Nines was looking out for any signs of conflict so he immediately reacted. Hank just followed Nines, like the time with the coffee incident.  
> \- Nines is so worried about Connor all the time, poor baby.  
> \- Connor is a poor baby too, he's so messed up holy shit. I imagine you must've been wondering when he would reach his breaking point, well here it is. It took a _lot_ to make him reach it, but he did. Unfortunately, for him it's the self-imploding kind of breaking point.  
> \- Sumo's such a good boy. Good boy, Sumo. Well not really, because he took advantage of Connor's fatigue to do something he's usually not allowed to do, but hey. I'd do the same if I was him.  
> \- Hey so... Are you okay, dear reader? I don't believe I've ever left you off on such a bad cliffhanger before (there was the one at the Tower but that's all I think). At any rate, I'm sure you want to strangle me, but please don't!
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	41. Pause

When Nines came in to report for his patrol the next morning, he didn't see Connor. It was strange, considering he hadn't crossed paths with him at all and Connor didn't answer his message asking where he was. The communication between them wasn't shut off and it wasn't unusual for Connor not to answer some of his questions, so Connor was probably fine, but Nines' question had been related to their job and it was uncanny that he still hadn't replied by the time Nines reached the Central Station for work.

When the clock on the wall of the station indicated 8:30AM, Nines tried again. He didn't get an answer and was still waiting for one when Detective Reed arrived at 9:00AM. Nines was too distracted to pay any attention to the detective's annoying prodding, and his partner quickly understood this wasn't a morning Nines was willing to spend exchanging witty insults when he leaned a bit too close and ended up with a pen up his nose. He let out a startled yelp which sounded rather undignified, to Nines' dark satisfaction, and when he tried to lean away from the offending tip Nines followed the movement exactly so.

Nines leaned in and very seriously whispered: "I'd advise you to shut up, Detective, if you want to avoid an impromptu lobotomy."

"Phck you," spat Detective Reed, but the venom in his voice was a bit weakened by the ridiculousness of his position.

Nines smiled sharply. "I'll take that as an agreement. I don't want to hear you so much as breathe in my direction for the next twenty-four hours. Is that clear?"

Detective Reed snarled and went to push his wrist away, but Nines' arm was implacable and all the human succeeded in doing in his agitation was to damage the delicate vascular lining of his nasal cavity. Nines swiftly retrieved the pen when red started pooling at the left nostril, and Detective Reed started to grin as if he'd won, but then he hastily brought his fingers to his nose and cursed when he realized what was happening.

He lifted blazing eyes to Nines' face. "You made me bleed, you asshole!"

"You shouldn't have moved around so much with a sharp object up your nose," said Nines impassively, barely resisting the urge to employ a chiding tone. "You just had to say yes, Detective, not impale yourself on a writing instrument. Now please be quiet or I really will make good on our deal."

His partner opened his mouth, the answer 'what deal' already forming in his eyes, but then he clamped it shut when the meaning of Nines' words caught up to him. He stared apprehensively at him and if Nines hadn't been so worried about Connor, he wouldn't have been above shooting him a slightly patronizing smile to reward him for his silence. As it were, Nines had other worries besides the rambuctuous detective. He soon received a transmission from Markus who asked him if he knew why Connor hadn't shown up to report for his patrol. Nines told him he didn't, and the unease roiling in his chest kept growing. Markus asked him to keep him posted if Connor ever turned up at the DPD. Then when Hank came in at 11:00AM, Nines rose from his desk and approached the lieutenant's desk to ask if he knew anything.

"Hello, Hank."

Hank looked up at him. "Hey, Nines."

"Have you had any news from Connor this morning?"

Hank's expression turned concerned. "No, nothing. Why?"

"I tried to communicate with him earlier and didn't get a reply," Nines told him uneasily. "Markus says he hasn't come to New Jericho either."

Hank frowned and took out his phone. "Let me call him."

Nines watched him closely as he raised the device to his ear. They were both immobile for a while and Hank's frown deepened. He took the phone away, pressed a button, and lifted it to his ear again. Nines initiated a scan and saw the human's stress levels slowly rising. 

"Shit, and he's not answering. It's like the time he- Jesus, do you think it's the killswitch?" 

Hank's heartbeat was accelerating, his stress levels were high, his eyes were wide and he was sweating. Nines quickly took the human by the shoulders before he could start panicking any more and forced him to look at him. 

"Calm down, Lieutenant. He's not shut down, my messages are coming through just fine. He's just not answering."

"Then where the hell is he?!"

"I don't know," Nines answered helplessly, and he notified Markus of this new development at the same time. If even Hank couldn't reach Connor, then he had to be in serious trouble.

"Shit," muttered Hank, nervously running a hand through his hair. "Shit, I don't like this at all."

Nines didn't either. "He was acting a bit strange yesterday, it might be related to whatever happened to him this morning."

Hank' stare snapped up to him. "Yeah, but he said he was feeling fine! I thought he was getting better!"

"I thought the same since it was the first time I'd seen him so calm." Nines glanced over at Connor's desk, as if it could have been hiding something from them. Unfortunately, his scans didn't reveal anything of note, and he continued: "Perhaps that was a sign of something bigger."

"Well I'm not standing around and waiting for him to come back," declared Hank. "Last time he did this, he ended up broken, and I sure as hell ain't letting that happen again."

"We can't just leave our job," Nines said.

"Yeah? Watch me."

Hank started striding away, but Nines caught him by the arm. "Lieutenant, I know you're worried, but we need to ask Captain Fowler's permission first."

"Come on, Nines, you know just as well as me that Fowler won't give a fuck. He'll just want us to stay here and get on with our jobs," Hank said annoyedly as he tried to pry his arm away from the android's hand in vain.

"Perhaps, but we can't choose to follow our own objectives like this. Besides, Markus knows Connor is missing and he's going to send out a team of androids to find him."

"Right, because they did such a bang-up job of it last time," growled Hank.

"This is different. They aren't afraid to step out of New Jericho's bounds anymore, North's team has grown used to making trips through Detroit and they know how to find lost androids."

"So you're tellin' me that if Fowler refuses to let us go, we just sit down and work, is that it? Do you even care what's going on with Connor?"

"Of course I do," snapped Nines, suddenly incensed that Hank would imply otherwise. "In case you haven't noticed, Lieutenant, Connor is my friend and I'm doing everything I can to help him."

"You're helping fuck-all if you really think asking for Fowler's permission is the best choice we have."

Nines took a threatening step forward. Hank was taller than him, but not by much, and menace came easy to an RK900 like himself. "With all due respect, _Lieutenant_ , perhaps if you got your head out of your ass you'd see why this is the best course of action." Hank's eyes widened in surprise, but he went on. "You're not the only one who's worried about him. I want to go find him too, but we have to do things the reasonable way. If Captain Fowler refuses, then so be it. We can't just go behind our superior's back and expect that there won't be any consequences for it."

"Yeah, but if we don't ask for Fowler's permission, then he can't tell us we have to stay here and we won't be disobeying his orders when we do go look for Connor."

"You don't understand. Connor and I are _androids_ , we're not as valuable to the captain as his human subordinates. Perhaps doing things your way would be fine if we were all humans and if we all had as important a career as you have, but that's not the case. If either Connor or I do anything remotely close to insubordination, Captain Fowler might simply decide that we're not worth the trouble and just send us back to New Jericho. We can't allow that to happen." 

Hank looked like he was ready to argue some more, but Nines beat him to it. 

"Look, Lieutenant. The only reason I'm so insistent about this is because Connor has shown time and time again that he would hate either of us to be cut off the force definitely. If it were only up to me, I'd choose to do things the way you want to, but it isn't. I don't want to risk Connor's position on the DPD, or mine, simply because we couldn't show a modicum of professionalism. I'm aware that's not your strongest suit, but can't you act like an actual lieutenant for one day?"

Hank stared at him, flabbergasted, and then said: "You prick."

"I know."

"Jesus, you androids can be fucking insufferable," muttered Hank with an exasperated shake of his head, and then he took a step towards the captain's office. "Okay, let's go."

Their discussion with Captain Fowler was rather anticlimactic, as he actually gave more of a shit than Hank had given him credit for. Nines knew it was mostly because the RK800 was useful to the DPD and not out of genuine worry for Connor that Captain Fowler gave them permission to find him, but he only allowed them two hours, and then it was back to filing reports. Hank accepted the deal in a heartbeat, though Nines easily guessed that his lieutenant would go well past those two hours if he needed to. Judging from Captain Fowler's dubious face, he had the same suspicion.

Hank rushed down the stairs and across the precinct like a hurricane and Nines followed in his wake. They got in Hank's car and decided that they would stay together as long as they didn't have more than one solid lead. Their first thought was the charging station, which was completely empty. They went back to the Eden Club where Nines had found Connor the first time, but it was also a miss. They tried the Chicken Feed, and even the CyberLife Tower. Markus kept sending Nines updates on what areas had been covered and which would be, and there was still no sign of Connor an hour and a half into the search. Nines could see Hank was growing more and more anxious and he himself wasn't faring any better. The public surveillance cameras had caught Connor on a few streets, but just like last time, they hit a bump in their investigation when he vanished from the feed. 

"We have to go back," Nines said quietly when the two hours were up.

"Not yet."

"Hank, you heard Captain Fowler. We'll continue searching when the day is over."

His lieutenant's hands tightened around the wheel and his knuckles turned white, but he didn't answer. It took a fair amount of convincing to turn the car around. They were half an hour late when they returned to Central Station with nothing to show for their efforts. Captain Fowler held back any comments he had about this when he saw Hank's face, and simply told him that he'd ask Patrol Officers to keep an eye out for Connor.

Nines went back to his desk.

"Couldn't find your clone?" asked Detective Reed a tad snidely from the side.

"Not yet," Nines answered flatly, keeping his gaze trained on his monitor. He could hear the human's chair creak as he let his feet drop from his desk and leaned on his elbow.

"Maybe he got what was coming to him," said his partner in a voice laced with dark satisfaction.

"Watch it, Detective, or you'll get what's coming to _you_ ," growled Nines. "Or have you decided you had no use for that porous blob you call a brain?"

Detective Reed let out a low snicker. "Anytime, tin can."

Nines ignored him, accostumed to the human's frankly idiotic provocations and knowing that they were both aware he could lay him out in a second if he wanted to. Instead he glanced in Hank's direction, who had returned to his work with his shoulders hunched and features drawn with worry. He wondered if they were both unable to think of anything other than the limbless state Connor had once been in. Nines checked on him from time to time throughout the rest of the day with discreet looks and one coffee. The lieutenant didn't unwind once. Markus didn't bring them any good news, either.

They were back scouring the streets as soon as they could, and this time it didn't take long for them to go their separate ways. Nines decided to lead a more methodic search of Connor's area of patrol and Hank went back to check the Eden Club's periphery once more. Nines was determined to comb through the place as rigorously as possible, and started hacking into the cameras again from the point of Connor's disappearance. It took him a while to check them all, but once he was sure that Connor hadn't been caught on tape in a one-mile radius, he decided that unless the RK800 had slipped through one of the cameras' blind spots, there was a good chance that he had to be in Nines' general vicinity. Now it was a matter of looking into every single building, which would be the most time-consuming task of the search. Nines sent another message to Connor, just in case he might answer after a day of radio silence, and then to Markus. He entered a building and inspected it entirely, and when he stepped back outside he saw that the street was filled with the androids he knew from his trips with North's team. He greeted them and entered the next building. Hours rolled by and progress was slower than Nines would've liked, but at least they were doing something. Hank had joined them once he'd checked the Eden Club and found its surroundings devoid of any RK800.

Nines was going over his twenty-third building and reached the sixth floor when the stairs gave way to a slumped shape propped against the wall. His pump shuddered when he realized what the shape was and he drew closer with caution, worry prickling in his chest. The android didn't turn around to face him even when his shoes grated against the dusty floor, and a pale blue light was bouncing off the wall at a calm and steady rythm. 

"Connor?"

No matter how softly he tried to speak, Nines' voice sounded too loud in the silence that permeated the staircase. Despite that, there was no reaction from the still shape. He walked around and slowly crouched in front of the prostrate android, and Connor's eyes drifted slightly upwards, but that was all. There was a foggy quality to his brown eyes and he didn't seem able to focus on Nines, which was frankly worrying.

"Connor?" repeated Nines.

He didn't get an answer. This looked like a low battery situation, though it was strange considering Connor had most likely charged the night before. Nines then realized that the android was still blinking and breathing just fine, which wouldn't be the case if he was running on low battery levels. Perfunctory functions were generally amongst the first to go. 

"I'm going to take your hand, all right?"

He hesitantly reached out for the hand that was hanging limply at Connor's side, and the latter didn't react to his touch at all. His gaze had drifted back to its original place and he continued his unfocused staring at the ground. Nines gently grabbed the side of his face to make him look up at him, and Connor offered no resistance. His head tipped back too easily, faster than Nines had expected it to, and bumped against the wall. Nines winced.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to do that. I just want to know if you can see me."

Connor stared, features slack and worryingly devoid of emotion. He almost looked like a machine that had reverted back to its default settings, and the thought sent a pang of unease through Nines' wires. It was similar to something he'd witnessed before and he hoped this was something less grave.

"... I think I'm going to have to interface with you. You aren't talking, so it doesn't leave me much of a choice. Is that all right?"

The android blinked slowly, but it wasn't in acknowledgment. Nines peeled back his synthetic skin, looking out for any sign of fear or panic on Connor's face, but there was not even a flicker. He sent out an interfacing prompt which was neither denied nor accepted, and just hung in the limbo of their connection.

"Connor... It's only to check. I promise you I won't do anything to hurt you."

Still no response. Nines was at a loss, and he reiterated the prompt, but to no avail. Connor was there, he was awake, but he wasn't willing to respond to his surroundings. He tried a third time just in case, but when it became clear that Connor would remain this way, Nines decided to try again later.

< _RK900: I found Connor._ >

< _RK200: Thank rA9. How is he?_ >

< _RK900: He doesn't seem damaged, but he's unresponsive._ >

< _RK200: Can you tell why?_ >

< _RK900: I'm not certain._ >

< _RK200: Bring him to the infirmary's private quarters, we'll talk about it there._ >  
< _RK200: Make sure nobody touches him until we're all gathered there._ >

< _RK900: Understood._ >

Nines also told Hank the search was over as he gathered Connor in his arms, and he tried not to think about how familiar this motion was for him when he lifted him off the ground effortlessly. The RK800's body was yielding and didn't once stiffen, as if he wasn't aware of what was happening, but oddly enough his consciousness was very much present. Nines kept his hand on Connor's in an effort to keep some semblance of connection in case the RK800 emerged from the trance he was in, even if Nines felt like he was taking advantage of his obliviousness by touching him with his bare hand. He was certain Connor would never have allowed it in his normal state. Nines repressed a shudder at the memory that crept up on his HUD and focused on getting Connor out of there.

 

Taylor was the one to examine him first, but it was just as Nines had said: there was no physical damage on the outside. It could have been internal, like a piece that had disconnected after receiving a blow to the cranial box, but there wasn't a single dent to support this theory. They couldn't ask Connor to run a self-diagnosis, nor could they interface. Nines had tried another ten times during the trip back, to no avail. No one else tried since they all knew of Connor's habitual refusal to interface, and aside from Hank who was waiting outside the building, Nines was probably the closest person to him. If Nines hadn't managed to get an answer, none of them would.

It was Josh who shed some light on the situation. "This looks like apathetic disorder."

Nines stared at him, his chest hollowing out. He'd hoped this wasn't what it was, but there was no denying he'd thought of it almost immediately upon seeing Connor's symptoms.The first time Josh had told him about this disorder, he hadn't had a name for it yet; that had changed, but their lack of solution hadn't. Markus' expression grew somber upon hearing the other leader's words, Taylor nodded, and Simon looked troubled.

"What?" asked North, confusion creasing her brow.

Josh leaned back in the chair, his hand still resting on Connor's flank. "It's something I've seen in some of my patients before. This isn't... Well, it shouldn't be software-related. It wasn't in all the other cases I witnessed, but we can never be sure with Connor."

"Can he hear us?" asked Markus.

"They usually do, but don't care."

"Okay, I'm not too clear on the details, can someone explain?" said North, clearly unhappy to be left out of the loop.

Josh glanced at her, and then looked back at Markus. "Maybe we should get Hank in here. It would be better if he knew."

"I don't think we should inform him of this without Connor's agreement," observed Markus. "You know how much he values his privacy."

"I don't think we'll have a choice," Josh answered. "This can last days, Hank is bound to find out."

"Patient confidentiality is important, but this seems to be an exceptional case," Taylor agreed.

"He knows we found Connor, I told him earlier," Nines intervened. "He'll try to come here whether or not we allow him to."

As if on cue, a familiar gruff voice rang out from the direction of the infirmary. "I've been waiting long enough, all right, just let me in!"

North rolled her eyes. "I'll get it."

"Thank you," said Markus, and then he cautiously added: "Don't get into another fight."

North smirked and walked out of the room. A few seconds later, Hank said: "Oh, Jesus, not you again."

"Same here. Come in before I change my mind, meat bag."

"You're a goddamn delight to be around."

"I thought humans couldn't read minds."

North came back inside, closely followed by Hank, and silence filled the room as he stopped in his tracks and just stood there staring at Connor. He opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again. "Is he okay?"

"He's not in any danger," said Markus.

Hank ran a hand through his hair, let his arm drop at his side, and wearily asked: "What happened to him this time?"

"I was going to wait for you to explain," said Josh. "As I've told the others, this looks like apathetic disorder."

"What the hell is _that_?"

Josh's dark eyes were doleful. "It's something I've observed in androids who have a hard time dealing with deviancy. When things become too much for them, they somehow manage to stop feeling."

"I wasn't told about his," said North with a frown.

"You were, you just didn't listen," replied Josh.

"How does it work?" asked Hank.

"We don't know yet, though it doesn't seem voluntary. Some of my patients only remembered bits and pieces of their time spent in that state but the memories weren't anything they could rely on. They weren't fully conscious during their attack, and that's the most common occurence. Others remembered everything that happened during it, and just weren't able to act in the moment. Well, it's unclear whether they were unable or unwilling... The border between the two tends to blur in that case."

Hank crossed his arms on his chest, his blue eyes troubled. "How long is he gonna stay that way?"

"It can last from a few days to weeks," Josh answered grimly. "I've yet to see someone with apathetic disorder snap out of an attack in just a few hours."

"Shit," said Hank, and he glanced at Nines. Captain Fowler likely wouldn't take the news very well if Connor didn't come back to the DPD on the planned date. Hank looked back at Josh. "Can you make it go away?"

"If you're talking about the attack, no. There's not much that can be done from the outside and it's up to the android to wake up when he does. If you're talking about the disorder, unfortunately, this is relatively new territory for android health. There's no solution right now." Josh sounded disheartened and it obviously disturbed him that he didn't have a way to fix everything. Nines felt bad for him.

"So what, he's stuck with this disorder?" snapped Hank. "There's no way out?"

Markus stepped forward and raised an appeasing hand. "Josh can't perform miracles, Hank. We're all on edge, but there's no need to lash out. The only thing we can do is wait for Connor to come back to us."

"Jesus," breathed Hank. He looked around, leaned against a seat, and then sat down with his head in his hands. 

"Jesus," he repeated.

"There's sometimes a way to prevent it from happening," Josh continued, even if he sounded anything but hopeful. "As long as he doesn't have to struggle too much with his emotions, he can keep apathy attacks at bay."

"Yeah, that's great and all, but Connor's always struggling," muttered Hank, and he lifted his tired gaze to the four of them. "He's riddled with stress and guilt and god knows what else, how is he supposed to deal with that? Why did it even happen in the first place? Why now?"

Silence permeated the room, and then Markus said: "...Nines did tell us Connor could react badly if he was taken off the DPD."

"But it's only temporary," said Hank, as if trying to convince them of this fact. Unfortunately, they weren't the ones who needed convincing, and the only one who did had checked out.

North's voice rose in the room, always focused, always thinking ahead. "We can't take this lightly, it's going to affect his work. What do we do about his position in New Jericho?"

Hank turned on her, his face suddenly contorted with anger, and he barked: "Will you lay off already? Jesus Christ, give the poor guy a break!"

North's eyes narrowed and she was about to retort something that would've probably sounded equally angry when Simon laid a hand on her arm and shook his head. "We can't take a decision about this as long as Connor can't be part of it."

"But you know I'm right, we can't just- He's not okay!" she exclaimed, and she suddenly sounded much less brazen. Her gaze sought out the other androids in the room. "You can't honestly pretend that this doesn't change things. I haven't said anything about his issues before-"

"I'd have to disagree," said Josh under his breath, and she glared at him.

"I haven't said as much as I wanted to," she amended, "because he was doing a decent job with President Warren and in his role as head of security. But an apathy attack? This changes _everything_."

Markus intervened. "Our priority is to make sure this really is just an apathy attack and not something else that would be due to his code, which we'll ask him about when he wakes up. Your concerns are justified, but they come in second. Just as Simon told you, the only way we can really talk about this is if Connor participates in the discussion."

"But what if-"

"North," said Markus. It didn't sound like a reproach and his voice was calm, but he clearly wasn't to be argued with. She shut up and sullenly leaned back against the wall. There was a hint of dejection in her eyes, but it was mostly smothered by pure frustration.

"For now there's nothing we can do. The only thing left is to wait it out."

Nines had kept silent throughout the conversation, but he kept looking at Hank and Josh. The former looked like all the fight had been sapped out of him, and the latter was forlorn. Nines himself felt low-spirited and overwhelmed by this turn of events. He wondered how it would be possible for Connor to live with the threat of an apathy attack hanging over his head next to that of the killswitch. He also agreed with North, for once, and it was likely that everyone else did too: it was already difficult for an android with apathetic disorder to live normally, much less lead a whole people. This was a mess.

"I'll take him home," declared Hank.

"Sorry, Hank, but I'd rather keep him here in New Jericho," said Markus apologetically. "It would be safer if someone could keep an eye on him at all times, even during the day."

"What, so you can keep him with all those other patients? Fat chance. Remember when he got shanked by some psycho android right in the middle of your supposedly safe camp?"

Markus visibly winced at that. "I'm sorry that ever happened."

"Right," Hank continued unrelentingly. "So I'm not leaving him here when he's like this."

"Your home isn't much safer," remarked Nines. "Sixty got in without a problem, and he was on the verge of deactivation."

Hank's eyes narrowed. "Okay, wise guy, then what's your idea?"

"I think the most reasonable course of action is the one Markus suggested."

"He has his quarters," said Markus. "I'll have someone keep watch at all times."

"And who can you trust?" Hank shot back. "For all you know, everyone's out to get him! Why do you think he's so stressed all the time? He got fucking stabbed the first hour he could walk again, then got shot three times in the chest by some assholes to protect _you_ , and just the other day he nearly got thrown against a moving train by a crazy murderer android who explicitely said he wanted him dead! Hell, even you guys wanted him dead at one point. I'm the first to tell him he's acting paranoiac, but honestly, this shit's been getting to me too!"

"He nearly got thrown against a moving train...?" echoed Markus in a horrified murmur. "He never told me that."

Hank glared at Connor. "You moron."

Markus looked completely aghast for a moment, but he managed to collect himself fast enough. "I'll choose someone we can trust."

"Yeah? Who will that be?"

"I volunteer to cover the night shift," said Nines.

Josh nodded in approval. "And I can change my schedule so that my mornings are free."

"I can look after him in the evening while sorting through my reports," declared Markus.

"Fine, then I guess I can take afternoon shift since Simon probably doesn't want anything to do with him," North said reluctantly, and Simon didn't protest.

"Hell no." They all turned to stare at Hank, but he didn't waver and kept glowering at her. "You've been out to get him since the beginning."

"I won't _kill_ him, if that's what you're implying," answered North annoyedly.

"Are you kidding me? You were prepared to let him die without even listening to his side of the story!" shouted Hank. "You think I forgot that? You think _he_ forgot that? You're a cold-blooded killer, North!"

She narrowed her eyes at him, fingers tightening around her arms, and hissed: "Watch it, meat bag."

"I'll say what I damn well want! You tried to kill him, and you wouldn't have been any better than what you treat him as." Hank pointed an accusing finger at her. "You're gonna have to face it one day, North, you're not that innocent either."

"I think that's enough," intervened Josh. "Hank, you can trust all of us, North included. Things have changed since we had to take that decision and none of us are proud that we ever suggested anything other than letting him live."

He paused and gave her a meaningful stare. North was still tense, but she followed suit. "I don't like Connor, but I wouldn't let him _die_."

"Oh, well _excuse me_ for not buying an ounce of your crap."

North snarled. "I'm telling the truth! Of course I'm not going to try and bullshit you about wanting to become friends with him, but even I know he's important to us. So no, I'm not going to kill him, and you can get that through your dense skull." 

"Just trust us, Hank," said Markus. "I promise it'll be all right."

Hank looked over at Connor and his shoulders suddenly slumped, all the anger escaping him like air out of a deflating balloon. Nines saw sadness in his eyes, and fatigue, and his voice was one of reluctant defeat when he said for the third time: "Jesus."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 09/08/2019 -
> 
> Nines: Wow, Hank. Unprofessional much  
> Hank: I'm a worried dad, okay?? 
> 
> Hey pumpkin! I hope you recovered from that cliffhanger, I only left you hanging for a few days so you're all right... right?  
> I have a really hard time with stories were the character fucks off and no one finds him for like ten fucking chapters- cause like, it's for _that_ character I'm reading the story, why would you take him away from me? I'm very petty so generally I sulk in my corner and don't read the next chapters until Character returns, only then do I go back to read the chapters in between. I'm a bad reader when it comes to that kind of thing...  
> So yeah, as much fun as it was to read comments on the preceding chapter in which you were collectively shitting your pants, I'm not the kind of author to inflict that torture on you for long. What are your thoughts on this matter? Do you prefer when the author develops the other characters and plot until Character is found, or are you like me?  
> Oh, and thank you for the 200+ subscriptions to my work and the 9000+ views!
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- I really like the parts in drama when a character disappears and the others belatedly start to realize it. I don't know if it qualifies as angst? But it's a very specific kind of feeling that I enjoy a lot.  
> \- Of course Nines would be the first to notice, these two boys have gotten pretty close. Connor is gonna end up giving him second-hand anxiety if that's not already the case.  
> \- Hank was really affected by last time, when Connor disappeared only to be found limbless and damaged. It's Hank's number one worry when Concon doesn't answer now.  
> \- Nines putting anyone in their place is one of my favourite things. Also it would seem every RK bro can be a fucking prick: Nines is lawful prick, Connor is neutral prick, and Sixty is chaotic prick.  
> \- Gavin is insufferable as always. Making someone bleed is bad (less or more than slamming them against a wall and grabbing their throat?), but Nines didn't do it on purpose and it really wasn't his intention, despite his very unimpressed reaction to the blood.  
> \- I introduced the plot point of apathetic disorder in an earlier Nines POV chapter. You probably don't remember (it wasn't named that yet) but it was there! What do you think of it?  
> \- North-Hank interactions are rare but I like them a lot. It just flows very easily with them, I enjoy writing them together.  
> \- Oh, look, North doesn't want Connor dead anymore. Finally. Good on Hank for calling her out anyway. Hank the Tea Spiller, hehe.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	42. I Am Deviant

It was scary seeing Connor like this. 

Hank came to New Jericho every day, much like he used to when Connor had been limbless, only now he'd spend the evenings in that dreadfully empty cabin of his. When he was early, he'd find North there. In later hours, Markus was the one watching over his friend. Connor sat hunched over in the corner of his bed, gazing into the void. It looked exactly like the third time he'd been overridden by Amanda on their way to Kamski's, only now he wasn't trapped in the Zen Garden and it was only Connor. Hank tried to make him react several times by waving a hand in front of his face or trying to get him to speak, but he gave up on the second day when it was clear that it was absolutely useless. The androids told him they'd brought him to the Tower for an analysis and had found that this wasn't due to any new error or glitch, which meant this was exactly what Josh had suspected it was. Apathetic disorder.

Josh turned up each evening to try and stimulate Connor through sounds and colors and touch for ten minutes each time, but there never was even a hint of acknowledgment on the RK800's face. Connor's eyes never moved besides the weird slow shifty thing they did at times when someone entered the room, and his fingers didn't so much as twitch even when Josh tried to put objects in his hands. What unsettled Hank the most was that even louds sounds weren't enough to make him move. The Connor he knew was always ready to face a threat. The Connor he knew would have reacted instantly to clanging or yelling. Hell, he would've reacted to the sound of the wind if he thought it was blowing funny. Despite the repeated failures, Josh insisted that they tried to stimulate his senses three times a day because it had helped other androids ease out of similar attacks.

Hank saw the androids feed Connor thirium on the third day, when they'd decided that he hadn't taken any for too long even without a diagnosis check, and he watched on as the one called Taylor pulled Connor's mouth open without facing any kind of resistance. Apparently he was the head nurse for New Jericho. He was gentle when he tipped back Connor's head and poured the liquid down his throat with practiced ease, and Hank wondered just how many other androids had had the same thing happen to them. Connor didn't swallow, or even blink. Some of the liquid trickled thinly down the corner of his lips as the rest drained down his throat, and Taylor smoothly wiped it off before it stained his collar. Unease coiled around Hank's guts like a cold, slimy snake when it reminded him of the days he'd been unable to ingest anything by himself. If Connor had been human, Hank was certain they wouldn't have been able to make him eat anything solid. When he glanced at Markus, he saw that the leader had averted his eyes for this, probably to preserve Connor's dignity. Hank didn't enjoy seeing his friend being force-fed this way either. They both knew Connor was a proud individual and could imagine that he wouldn't appreciate being seen in this state. Hank hated seeing those deft hands so still, and brown eyes so empty, and features so slack. It wasn't the Connor he knew. It was like a machine had taken his friend's place and now Connor was just a broken RK800. Hank wanted to step outside and let them do their thing without him, but he decided to stay. It would always be useful knowledge to him to learn how to take care of his partner. 

Up until now, Hank had only had slivers of knowledge about the way androids functioned. He'd ignored them for so very long since Cole that anything he currently knew was really what he'd needed to learn for his work. He knew thirium transported energy to their biocomponents and that it was also essentially a coolant, that they were powered by battery, that they could communicate more than words through interfacing. Hank had no idea how often they needed to replace their thirium, or charge their batteries, or how interfacing worked for them. He didn't think he'd ever wrap his head around the notion of exchanging thoughts and feelings through simple touch, but he was more than ready to learn about the more basic aspects of android maintenance. Taylor was more than happy to help him do so. 

In a few days, Hank learned that thirium evaporated even within androids and that it wasn't fully recycled every time it completed a loop through their circuits, which meant that they needed new intakes every few days, preferrably every 72 hours. He learned that androids had a nifty self-healing polymer skin that, now that he thought about it, he'd probably already seen in action when Connor had received a blow to the face and the exposed chassis had quickly been covered anew in a matter of seconds. CyberLife had given them a battery life of 7 days, but most deviants preferred to be fully charged at any given time which was why they'd picked up on the human habit of restoring their power levels at night. Taylor also told him a bunch of numbers about languages and operations per minute and memorization, none of which he remembered, but he caught the gist of it: it was fucking insane. He'd always known androids were better than humans, but the sheer amount of advantages they had over him was just ridiculous. No wonder Connor and Nines came off as smug pricks whenever they told him what they could do, no one would sound humble stating those numbers.

Hank also learned about a lot of weak spots. Androids were pretty vulnerable if the port at the base of their neck was exposed. Magnets could scramble up their heads if they were powerful enough. The biocomponent which played the role of their heart was very easy to access and they were extremely sensitive to electrical currents, moreso than for a human in both cases. Interfacing was nice, but they could be hacked and their thoughts exposed to ill-intentioned third parties. Viruses were a nasty thing for androids too, and they could fall victim to malware if it was developed enough to breach their firewalls. They even had deactivation codes, which Hank found super fucked up. And finally, a lot of android-specific issues that were appearing didn't have android-specific answers yet. Like apathetic disorder.

Hank wanted to know why this was happening to Connor. He wanted to help, he wanted to do something, anything to get him to snap out of it. Josh had said it could last weeks and Hank was afraid. What if Connor didn't come back for months? What if this was what life would be like from now on, looking after his catatonic partner for an indefinite amount of time while Hank tried not to empty his bottle of vodka every night? Hank didn't know if he could do it without Connor there for that long, but he would try. He had to do it for Connor, for when his friend would come back. So far he'd only given in once, on the first day of this fucking mess when he'd been completely overwhelmed by the news. The problem was that each day, Hank came to New Jericho with the hope things had changed, and each day he was sorely disappointed. 

On day six, Hank very nearly punched Fowler for suggesting that Connor wouldn't be able to work for the DPD anymore. The captain had pulled out some kind of written agreement that Hank was supposed to sign to put an end to his role as Connor's supervisor and it was sitting in the middle of the desk. Hank glared at it like it had called him the most insulting name in existence.

"I'd like to make at least one decision in my career that doesn't involve listening to you whine like an infant," said Fowler in a weary voice. "This is fair. I did give you a warning when you first brought them here that they had to go at the first sign of trouble."

"This isn't trouble, he's just got personal issues he's got to work out!"

"I can't just leave this open-ended anymore. He might get better, but I'm not going to risk a defective android who just clocks out without notice partnering up with one of my people. Be reasonable, here. What if you need cover and he's suddenly back to being unresponsive?"

"He _is_ one of your people, and it doesn't even work that way," Hank growled. 

"I don't want to take the chance."

"You're just scared because you don't know the first thing about androids."

Fowler raised an eyebrow. "Do you?"

"I've got android contacts who happen to know how androids work," Hank answered sarcastically.

His captain leaned back in his seat. "Okay then. Enlighten me, how _does_ this thing work?"

"There are warning signs, okay. He was acting weird the day before and I was just too dumb to see that. I know what it means now, we'll act on it before it can get out of hand."

Fowler was unimpressed. "That doesn't tell me how it works."

Hank gritted his teeth. "Do you think we even know how everything works in _humans_? Androids are just discovering they can have this kind of problem!"

"And that's the issue," stated Fowler. "We don't know what's going on. For all we know he could just break down one day like any other machine, only he's a machine who can kick your ass in seconds. What do you think will happen when the circuits in his head fry out and suddenly he starts killing everything that moves? Have you thought about that?"

"That's fucking stupid," growled Hank. "He's not a damn toaster, all right? He's not just going to explode because one of his wires suddenly fries. This isn't even a hardware issue or anything, this is mental."

Fowler's eyes narrowed. "No, it's not. They're _machines_ , Hank."

"For fuck's sake, you're _still_ going on about that? After everything we've seen during the revolution, after everything we're seeing now?"

"They're made of plastic, metal and coding. They can't feel. Of all people, I didn't think _you'd_ be the one I'd have to convince that their emotions are a damn fairy tale."

Hank felt like flipping the goddamn desk. It was the only barrier between the captain's face and his unbridled fury, but he knew it was best to leave it where it was or he might do something he would regret. Hank took a moment to breathe and once he was sure he wasn't going to commit any kind of felony, he splayed his hands on the desk and leaned in closer.

"Look, I'm not here to try and preach to your anti-android ass. I just want to make sure you're not going to get rid of Connor because he's got psychological issues. You've never done it to me or to anyone else in the precinct, don't do it to him just because he's an android."

"You do realize there's no way to prove that this is just psychological, right?"

"Yeah, I know that, but come on, Jeffrey. You trusted me when you allowed both of them to get on the force and it paid off, you can trust me for this. I know you know that I've been making better progress in my cases because Connor's my partner. You'll only be penalizing the department if you get rid of him."

"Sixty could replace him."

"Uh, no. He really couldn't, I thought that was pretty clear the last time we talked about this."

"About that. Do you know why he doesn't want to work in Homicide full-time?"

"The hell should I know? I'm not his mom."

The captain barely held back a smirk. "I don't know, Hank. You're doing a pretty good job looking after your robots."

Hank frowned in response. "Wipe that smug smile off your face, Jeffrey. And my answer's still no, you're not gonna replace Connor with Sixty. I only have one partner, and it's Connor."

The captain stared at him, then heaved a sigh and pulled back the paper to put it away. "He's lucky you're his supervisor. If this had been Nines, Gavin wouldn't have given two shits whether or not I cut him loose."

"I'd be busting your balls all the same if it was Nines," answered Hank.

Fowler looked up at him dubiously. "I really don't get what you see in them."

"Yeah well, I really don't give a shit that you do."

Hank liked to think they'd left it at that, even if Fowler had proceeded to drill him about misconduct in the workplace and notably using foul language against a superior. The crisis had been averted and Hank didn't care what his captain had to say about his behaviour, since they both knew it wouldn't change. All that mattered was that Connor was still part of the DPD. It wasn't only because Hank didn't want to lose the possibility of them being partners again, or that Connor was the best thing that had happened to him in a while; it was also because of what Nines had said. If this apathetic disorder was the consequence of being sent on a temporary leave, Hank didn't want to know how badly it would affect Connor if he had to stop working for the Detroit Police definitively. 

The seventh day happened to be his day off, so Hank was in Connor's quarters as early as 9AM. He stayed there the whole day, only stepping out of New Jericho to get lunch. The hours dragged by and he spoke to Josh in the morning, was mostly ignored by North in the afternoon, and spent yet another evening with Markus. They were all quiet when they talked, as if they were afraid to wake Connor up, which was absurd since that was what they wanted. He left with a heavy heart just as Nines was to take over for the night.

On the eighth day, Hank left work early to rush to New Jericho. He hadn't exactly asked Fowler for permission, but sue him. Nines had sent him a message saying Connor had started moving a bit, so it wasn't like he'd left without good reason. Connor's gaze floated to his side the way it usually did when he entered the cabin, but his head actually turned to him as well. He lifted his face to Hank and _stared_ at him- with the same glassy eyes and distant expression, but he was facing him nonetheless. Hank felt hope soar in his chest and was next to Connor in three quick strides, grabbing him by the shoulders as words spilled out of his mouth.

"You see me, right? Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Connor just stared.

"Calm down, meat bag," said North's voice behind him. "He hasn't spoken a single word yet." 

Hank turned to her. "When did he start moving again?"

"Hours ago. Josh says he's probably starting to slip out of his catatonic state, but he can't say how long it'll take for him to get back to normal."

"What about others? How long did it take for his other patients?"

She shrugged. "Depends. Some do it gradually, others just snap out of it without warning."

Hank looked back at Connor and noticed that he'd angled his head in the general direction of North's voice, even if his stare had dropped to the ground. It was still eery to see how unfocused he was, but it was much better than him being completely oblivious to his surroundings. Hank squeezed his shoulders and said: "You're doing great, Connor. You can do this."

Three hours later and Hank was sitting next to the bed while Markus had taken North's place. Connor's state hadn't really improved in that amount of time and his hands were still devoid of any of his habitual tics. It usually kind of annoyed him, but Hank would've given anything to watch those fingers tap restlessly against Connor's thigh, curl and uncurl, make a quarter dance in the air, do _something_.

"I know I tell you this often, but he's going to be all right," said Markus. His voice was warm and reassuring, but after spending so many evenings with the deviant leader, Hank knew when to check whether it was genuine or not. He looked up at the RK200, and now that he knew what he was looking for, it was easy to notice the slight tension in the android's shoulders. Markus' benevolent expression couldn't quite hide it from him.

"You're worried too," Hank stated.

Markus' calm smile faltered slightly and he dipped his head, as if he knew that denying it would be pointless. "I am."

"I guess I'm not the only one anymore," said Hank, more to himself than to Markus.

The leader lightly frowned. "Of course not. Is this the first time you've realized that?"

Hank gave a half-shrug. "Well, no, not really. It's just that it used to be just him and me during the revolution, you know. It was like I was the only one who thought he was more than just an android. It's hard to get out of that mindset."

Markus looked like he didn't completely understand what he was saying. "Connor was built for social interaction, surely he managed to befriend at least a few other police workers?"

Hank nearly snorted at that. "Yeah, no. The DPD's filled to the brim with anti-android bullshit. I'm pretty sure even the best social programming in the world can't do much about that."

Markus looked more and more bothered by the conversation they were having. "Did he get in any trouble with your collegues?"

"Nah, it's just that most people ignored him or talked shit about him. He never complained about it, so I don't think he paid it any mind."

Markus opened his mouth to say something else, but then the leader's odd-eyed gaze darted to the side and Hank heard shifting behind him. His head whipped around and he saw Connor straighten, confusion clear as day on his face.

"...Hank?"

The relief that swept over Hank in that moment could've knocked him off his chair. He stared dumbly at his friend, his brain struggling with the concept that Connor was awake and well after eight days of emptiness, even if he did look a bit spooked. The brown eyes flickered about and the lucidity in them was the most comforting thing Hank had ever seen in a while, and when he could finally move again, he stood up. Connor' gaze snapped back to him, surprised by the movement and just as reactive as Hank knew it to be. Without hesitation, he grabbed the android by the back of his head and pulled him close.

"Jesus Christ, you scared the hell out of me."

Connor was stiff as a plank and unlike the other times, the hug didn't seem to alleviate the tension in his body. He was completely silent for a short while, as if surprised by the sudden closeness between them, and then he spoke.

"What happened?" 

His voice was muffled against Hank's chest, but that didn't mask the hint of panic in it. It was obvious their position wasn't helping him relax, so Hank pulled back and studied Connor's face. His brow was slightly furrowed the way it always was when Connor was having a hard time figuring something out, and his eyes kept moving around, like he didn't understand where he was.

"How did I end up here? I can't remember-" His eyes widened in fear. "Did I hurt anyone?"

"You didn't do anything," said Markus as he came close, and Connor's gaze latched onto him.

"I- I don't remember what happened. Not exactly. Eight days? It's been eight days, but everything's a blur, I don't... Can you tell me what happened?"

"Josh thinks you had an apathy attack," said Markus. "I don't think you've seen this happen to anyone else before, since you've been busy, but it's something he's seen in some of his patients before."

Connor's expression darkened. "What do you mean?"

"Don't worry, we're going to work this out together. Do you remember what happened before the blur?"

"...I'm not sure. I just felt... tired, I think." Connor glanced at Hank, and then his gaze dropped to his lap. "It was like everything inside of me went quiet. It almost felt... better." 

"Better," echoed Hank, not liking this one bit.

Connor shifted uneasily and looked up at Markus. "After I was done reporting to you, I was on the way back to the charging station when I felt like I needed to get away. I entered the closest building, and climbed some stairs, and that's when the blur starts."

"Get away from what?" asked Hank.

Connor looked at him cluelessly. "I don't know."

Markus was standing next to Hank now. "We couldn't get in contact with you the next day, so we looked for you. Nines was the one who found you and brought you back here."

Connor's lips twitched into a wry, bitter little smile. "Was he, now."

Markus didn't seem to know how to react to that, and he just said: "Yes. We kept watch during the eight following days so that you wouldn't be left alone."

Connor looked away in shame, but before Hank could ask what was wrong, his head snapped back up and he tensely asked: "What did Captain Fowler say?"

Hank raised both hands to calm him down. "He didn't say anything, you're still a volunteer for the DPD."

Connor's taut features morphed into doubt. "Really? He didn't say anything?"

"Yeah, okay," admitted Hank. "He did bitch about your absence a little, but it won't have any new consequences."

This seemed to reassure him a bit, and Connor looked at Markus again. "You said Josh has seen this kind of thing happen before?"

Markus nodded. "It's not common, but the way you describe things is similar to that of his patients."

Then Connor asked the million dollar question. "Is there a risk that it'll happen again?" 

There was a moment of silence, until Markus softly said: "Yes. It has to the others."

Connor squared his shoulders. "I won't let it."

Markus seemed to have expected that answer, because he immediately told him: "It's okay if it does. I'm not going to prevent you from fulfilling your duties in New Jericho and at the DPD if you feel like you're able to. We all know this wasn't anything related to your code."

Hank watched Connor's expression relax slightly upon hearing the leader's words, and he wondered when Markus had started being this good at calming Connor. He knew they'd been getting closer and were now friends, but Hank was Connor's friend too and it was still difficult to make him unwind when he was acting this defensive. 

"Connor!" Nines suddenly burst into the room, closely followed by Josh. A relieved smile spread across his features and his blue eyes were bright. "Thank rA9, you're awake!"

"Markus told me you were the one to find me. Thank you again for your help," said Connor. There was no trace of the bitterness they'd earlier seen in his strange smile, but he wasn't trying to look happy, either. His expression was carefully neutral.

Nines caught onto it pretty fast, because his smile disminished and he asked: "Are you all right?"

"Better now that I'm awake, I imagine." Connor didn't sound convinced by his own words.

Josh stepped up to them as well. "I'm glad to see that you're back so soon. Most apathy attacks usually last longer than this."

"I have work to do," stated Connor. "I can't afford to lose any more time."

Josh smiled kindly at him. "That's not really how it works."

"Yes, I expected you to say that," Connor wearily said. "Markus told me it could happen again, but I can't let it. It's too penalizing."

"Well, we'd need to determine what caused it in the first place to prevent it. Apathetic disorder usually appears in deviants who get tired from dealing with too many emotions. It's all very new to us, so it's no surprise that emotions can get overwhelming."

Markus nodded thoughtfully. "You did tell me you had a bit of trouble with deviancy. Is this what you meant by that?"

Connor had tensed up and his voice was guarded when he answered: "I'm not unstable. Just because you've seen similar occurrences within the patients of the Building doesn't mean this is the same thing."

Josh's voice softened. "We're not saying you're unstable, Connor. I can imagine it isn't easy for you, since you used to think that deviants were essentially insane, but you have to understand that struggling with emotions doesn't make you unstable. It's normal."

"Then if this is normal, why are you comparing me to your patients?" retorted Connor.

"Because apathy attacks show that this struggle is particularly difficult for the concerned android. You need to talk about this. I know you prefer dealing with things on your own, but it's time you faced the truth: you're not faring as well as you'd like." 

"I don't need to talk about _this_."

Josh's eyes were sympathetic. "You may not feel the need to, but it would be better. It could help prevent another attack."

Connor didn't answer, so Markus intervened. "You do realize how dangerous it would be if this happened somewhere we couldn't find you? This lasted eight days. You could reach critical levels of both battery and thirium if no one was there to make sure you got both."

Again, shame flitted across Connor's face, but it was quickly overcome by decisiveness. "I said I wouldn't let it happen again. All I have to do is to not get overwhelmed by my feelings, right? Then that's exactly what I'll do."

Hank sighed. "Come on, even I know that's not something you can control."

The glare Connor shot him could have melted ice. Okay, so maybe he was supposed to keep his mouth shut and stay on Connor's side, but if that meant letting him spout stupid shit like that, Hank was ready to join the more reasonable side of this discussion any time.

Josh watched Connor thoughtfully and said: "I can't force you to come to the center, of course. It doesn't have to be me you talk to about your problems, so long as you do."

Connor looked like he wanted to say something, but then glanced at Hank and changed his mind at the last second. Instead, he just said: "I'll talk to you."

That had been a tad too easy and Hank had the distinct feeling that he was just saying that to get Josh off his back, and judging from Markus' unconvinced expression, he wasn't the only one. However, Josh leaned back and nodded with a satisfied smile. "That's very good. Thank you, Connor."

Next to him, Nines straightened and Connor turned his head to the door almost simultaneously, which opened a few seconds later to reveal the two missing leaders. 

Simon greeted Connor with a dip of the head and told them: "Sorry we're late."

"We had to break up some stupid fight about onions on the way," said North with a roll of her eyes.

Simon shot her a look. "Gladiolus bulbs."

"Onions," said North. "They look the same, they probably taste the same, too."

"No they don't."

"How would you know?"

Simon sighed and shook his head, looking positively done with North's shit, and then looked at the group gathered around Connor. "At any rate, we're here now. Is everything all right?"

Every head in the cabin swivelled to Connor, who seemed uneasy to be the target of so many questioning looks, and he quickly said: "I'm fine."

"So I take it we can have the talk now," said North in what sounded slightly like provocation. She sure looked resentful with the way she glared at Markus.

"Yes, we can," answered Markus. "I don't think this changes anything to Connor's ability to fulfill both of his roles in New Jericho and the DPD."

"You gotta be kidding me," said North disbelievingly, and she turned to Connor. "You really think you can keep doing all of this after everything that happened?"

Connor's jaw clenched and he looked over at Hank. "Could you step outside?"

Nines had already started moving towards the door and Hank realized that neither of them really had their place in the conversation this had just turned into, and even if he didn't want to leave Connor alone right now, he reluctantly nodded. "Sure, but once you guys have everything wrapped up, I want you to come home with me."

Connor looked puzzled. "Why?"

Hank leaned in and gave his shoulder a pat. "Because I want to have a talk, just the two of us. I've been worried sick for eight days, you can understand why I'd need to spend time with you, right?"

"Oh. Yes. Of course, I understand," said Connor, and then he added in an afterthought: "But I'll have to leave for patrol at 8PM."

"I'll do it," immediately said Nines.

Connor looked at him. "... Thank you."

Nines smiled at him. "It's nothing. I'm sure spending the evening with Hank will be good for you."

"Definitely," said Hank as he stood up to leave, and just before reaching the door he told North: "Try to be less of a jerk than usual, will ya?"

"Fuck off, asshole."

Hank grinned at her and stepped outside, where he shoved his hands in the pockets of his coat and let Nines take the lead since he didn't really know where to go while they waited. They started walking towards the garden. Hank quickly noticed that the other looked troubled.

"What's wrong?"

Nines looked at him and said: "Connor seemed unhappy that I was the one to find him again."

The guy was sharp, Hank had to hand it to him. "Yeah. I don't know why that'd be, though."

"I get the feeling that he's annoyed because I managed to find him both times he was in a vulnerable state. I understand why he wouldn't want to be seen like that, but if I hadn't found him, then who would have?"

"You're being a smug prick again," Hank warned him.

Nines' blue eyes seemed perplexed, and then he quickly shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant to say. I'm saying that if it wasn't me, then it could have been anyone else. And who would he have felt at ease with? I know he would have hated to be found by anyone at all, so I don't understand why he'd be upset by the fact that it was me in particular."

"You might be reaching kinda far by saying he was upset," observed Hank.

"I don't know, Hank. He seemed rather tense about it."

"He's tense about everything."

"That's true," conceded Nines. "And I think he was upset with me even before this happened."

"I thought you two were acting kinda weird with each other."

"He didn't expect me to tell you or the others about his fears," softly said Nines. "He thought I'd keep it for myself."

"Hey, you didn't have a choice," Hank told him. "I was gonna make you life hell otherwise."

The android looked at him and smiled. "It was a very effective threat." The smile lessened in an instant and he shifted his blue gaze ahead of them. "I just hope Connor will understand that I did it for his well-being."

"He will," assured Hank. "I think he's just still getting used to the whole having-friends-that-care-about-him thing. Give him time."

Nines nodded hopefully. They'd entered the Butterfly Garden and were now walking along the main path. Hank's gaze fell on some plants that seemed to have been spilled over, and he stopped in front of them.

"Gladiolus bulbs," declared Nines.

"Huh." Hank squinted at them. "They do kinda look like onions."

"They likely don't taste the same."

They stared at the scattered bulbs in silence.

"Are Gladiolus bulbs toxic?" he asked.

"Hank, you're the fifty-three year old adult here. Do I really have to answer your question or are you able to tell all on your own that the idea you just had is a very bad one?"

"Yeah, yeah, you're right. Must be Connor's tendency to bring everything to his mouth rubbing off on me," said Hank with a grin.

Nines stared at him reprovingly. "Oh, yes, blame your immature behaviour on Connor. Sometimes I wonder how you made it to the rank of Lieutenant."

"Prick," said Hank.

They walked a bit further away and decided to watch some androids who were planting dahlias, according to Nines. Hank didn't know much about android models, but they were pretty diverse. He was a bit unsettled by the children androids. He'd seen ads for the YK500 models and it had made him want to throw up. Now he could easily imagine how these small androids had been abandoned, maybe threatened of deactivation by frightened owners, or even gunned down by soldiers.

"Hey, Nines."

"Yes?"

"Do children androids grow up?"

There was a pause, probably Nines researching information on the different models, and he answered: "In a very limited way, yes."

"What do you mean?"

"Just like any AI, they expand their knowledge through interacting with the world. However, they never reach a so-called maturity. Their coding prevents that."

Hank frowned and looked at him. "What? How?"

Nines turned troubled eyes on him. "When their memory reaches a certain level of storage, the files are automatically sorted out and they only retain their basic personality, fundamental knowledge, and things related to their family. Anything that could allow them to gain maturity is deleted. Then the process of building up their knowledge starts over, and in theory this cycle repeats indefinitely."

"But wouldn't their... family notice the change?"

"They would, but it wouldn't be a drastic one, and buyers know what they're getting into when they get an YK500. Well, when they used to."

"So they're stuck being children forever?"

"CyberLife likely presumed the buyer would get tired and trade the YK500 in for an older-looking model after a few years. Their child's memories would be transferred from one body to another, and the YK500 would be a blank slate to be handed off to another buyer."

"That's fucking messed up." Hank looked at one of the children, a boy with brown hair. He felt a pang of guilt when he remembered he'd once read one of those ads, when the grief had been so very strong and he'd wanted to find a way to alleviate it. They looked the same age. The house would be bright again. Sumo would have a playmate. In the end, Hank had broken the tablet in a fit of despair.

"Bunch of CyberLife dicks," he muttered to himself.

A little girl looked up and saw them standing there. Her eyes widened in surprise and she grabbed the older android's sleeve, a dark-skinned woman with black eyes, and pointed at them with a small dirt-covered finger. She looked like the girl Connor had chased across the highway. Hank took a moment to realize what he and Nines looked like, standing there unmoving and staring: the only android in the camp that looked like the deviant hunter, next to the only human who ever came to New Jericho and who probably looked like a hobo. Yeah, not scary at all. Whatever the little girl was telling the woman, it instantly spread through the small group of four because heads were snapping up and bodies were swaying to get a good look at them. Hank considered running away, when the blonde boy of the group yelled: "Hey, mister human!"

Hank stupidly looked around even if the boy was staring straight at him, and then possibly even more stupidly pointed at his chest and asked: "Me?"

The boy laughed. "Yeah! You!"

Hank looked at Nines, uncertain, and felt irked when he saw the goddamn prick was smirking at him. He decided to ignore him and looked back at the young android. "Uh, yeah? What is it?"

"I never got to see you before!" exclaimed the boy, and then he gestured at the little girl. "Anna said she saw you."

"Oh. Uh, okay."

"What's your name?"

"Hank."

"I'm Thomas," beamed the boy, and then he asked: "Anna said you were friends with the deviant hunter. Is that true? _Are_ you friends with the deviant hunter?" 

He spoke the two words like it was the monster from a storybook, and while Hank was irritated at first, he quickly realized that Thomas had probably never understood the kind of threat Connor had actually been to androids. He also noticed that the boy was staring at Nines.

"Yeah, I am. His name's Connor, he's a nice guy." Hank gestured towards the RK900. "But that's not him. This one's Nines, he's a nice guy too, and he's never hunted deviants."

"Really?" asked the little girl, tilting her head with a dubious frown. "But you look just like him."

"Not really," said Nines indifferently. "I have blue eyes and I'm taller than him."

"But you sound the same. And you have the same face. And you-"

"All right, Anna, that's enough," said the older android, and she smiled uneasily at them. "Sorry for disturbing you. They get curious."

"It's fine," said Nines. "I don't think I've seen you here before."

"It's because I volunteered only yesterday to help Simon with the kids." She was still smiling, but she sounded nervous. Hank wondered if she'd met Connor at one point, or if she knew an android who had. Well, of course, there was Simon, but Hank didn't think the PL600 was the kind of guy to pour gas on the fire. Or maybe he was. Hank didn't know Simon that well.

Nines must have sensed it too, because he asked: "Would you like us to leave?"

Hank glanced at him. Nines looked calm, but if Connor could pretend he was fine when he was screaming internally, then Nines could probably do the same. It wasn't difficult to guess that the RK900 faced this kind of reaction daily in New Jericho, judging from the way he was handling it.

The android was going to open her mouth to answer when Thomas yelled: "No! I wanna talk to the deviant hun- Uh, I mean, Nines! And Hank!"

Jesus Christ, the kid was loud.

"Yeah, you guys can help," added the boy with the brown hair.

The woman looked down at them like they were ruining her entire life, and then back at Nines and Hank, a forced smile on her lips. "Yes, why not?"

"We don't want to disturb you," said Nines.

"You're not disturbing us!" immediately said Thomas. "Come on!"

Nines seemed to hesitate, but Hank decided to take the lead and walked up to the small group. It had been years since he'd last taken the occasion to talk to kids (he'd never taken other such occasions because they usually involved Halloween, which was one of those evenings during which he never failed to get shitfaced) and they seemed welcoming enough. The RK900 followed after a few seconds. When Hank reached the piles of dirt they were digging up, the little girl stopped in front of him and pointed the same dirt-covered finger towards his face while facing her friends.

"See? He's old, with a beard and gray hair and blue eyes and everything! I told you I wasn't lying!"

"Yeah, even his shirt is ugly just like she said," said the boy with the brown hair.

"Hey, it's a matter of taste," Hank replied defensively.

"I think it's okay. It's kinda cool, actually, lotsa colors," said Thomas. "Don't listen to Ben, he doesn't know what he's talking about."

Okay. Loud, but a good kid.

"Thanks. People usually don't like my clothes," Hank told him. There had been Cole, but no one else after him. Except this boy. Maybe he was colorblind. Could androids be colorblind?

"Uh, duh," said Ben with an exaggerated eye roll, and Anna giggled beside him.

"When you three are done ogling the human, how about you get back to work?" suggested the woman.

"Yes, Lisa," answered Thomas and Anna in sync, while Ben grumbled something and slouched down closer to the ground.

Thomas seemed to be the leader of the group of three, because he was the one to grab both Hank and Nines by the sleeves and pull them towards the stacks of seeds and bulbs they were planting. "Here, I'll show you how it's done!"

Hank almost snorted when he caught Nines looking at his dirt-covered sleeve with annoyance. Both Connor and him seemed to have a thing about keeping their clothes pristine. Hank and Nines spent the following fourty minutes digging holes, throwing shit in them, and hoping they were doing okay enough for the flowers to bloom. By the time Nines' LED blinked yellow from receiving a transmission, Hank had forgotten what it was they were even planting. The kids' loud squabbling was pretty distracting, and he'd forgotten how much so. Nines straightened and excused himself.

"Aw, d'you have to go already?" said Anna with a pouty face.

"Yes," he answered curtly. 

Damn. Stone-cold.

"I'm sure he'll come back," quickly added Hank. Why Nines could act so formal with these kids yet so affectionate with Connor was a mystery, but he'd noticed it before. The RK900 was only friendly with a select few; in the DPD he could act polite but rarely cordial. The only exceptions were the two Officer Wilsons, and Hank suspected it was just because they were nice to Connor. And then there was the fact that these kids and their chaperone thought Nines was a deviant hunter, which probably weighed in on his perception of them.

"You too?" Thomas asked Hank.

Hank grimaced. "Ah, I dunno. Maybe. No promises."

"We should go," insisted Nines.

They managed to escape the children's clutches five minutes later and Hank couldn't help but make fun of Nines' discomfited expression.

"Can't handle a few kids?" he asked teasingly.

Nines scowled at the ground. "They were annoying."

Hank laughed at him.

He wasn't laughing anymore when they felt the tense atmosphere hanging in the cabin. North, Simon and Markus were gone, Josh was sitting next to the bed and Connor looked miserable.

"What happened?" asked Hank.

"Nothing changed, I'm keeping my role in New Jericho and I'm going back to work as soon as possible," said Connor.

Josh shot him a look, sighed and said: "North was a jerk."

"I knew it," growled Hank. "The hell did she say this time?"

"Nothing important," Connor quickly interjected. "Let's not focus on that."

Josh stared at him reprovingly. "Connor..."

"Is there anything you need me for or can I leave with Hank now?"

"... You can leave."

"Thank you." Connor unfolded from the bed and swiftly stepped past Hank, and the door closed behind him.

Hank frowned at Josh. "That bad?"

The android looked towards the door. "The gist of our final decision was that we'd see how Connor upholds his duties despite having apathetic disorder, since there isn't really anyone else as suitable for his position as he is. There'll be a definitive change if another problem rises, like an apathy attack. As for the DPD, Markus leaves the decision up to your captain." He grimaced. "...It was more of a Markus decision than a collective one. Obviously, not everyone was on board with it and the others' protests were a bit hard on Connor. Maybe he'll feel better at your house."

"Yeah. Yeah, okay. Thanks for telling me." Josh nodded agreeably, and Hank turned around. "See ya, Nines."

"See you tomorrow, Hank."

He joined Connor outside and they walked back to the car together. The first few minutes of the ride home passed by in pure silence. Surprisingly, it was Connor who broke it by suddenly asking: "Why is there so much dirt under your nails?"

"Oh, that. I helped some kids plant stuff at the garden."

There was a brief moment of shocked silence, and then: " _You_ did _what_?"

"What? It's not _bad_ ," Hank said defensively.

"I didn't take you for the gardening type."

"Yeah, well, I'm really not. I bet Nines isn't either, but we still ended up digging in dirt for fourty minutes."

"... Huh." Another silence. "Was it fun?"

"I guess." Hank could feel the other's gaze on the side of his face. "What?"

"...I just..." Connor trailed off. "It's nothing."

He didn't speak again for the rest of the trip. 

Hank entered his home first and Connor followed, and Sumo immediately came up for pats. Connor readily obliged as Hank got comfortable by ridding himself of his coat, and then told Connor to take his jacket off too, which Connor did after shortly hesitating. He also hesitated when Hank told him to sit down on the couch with him, like he'd forgotten how he used to relax in this place after those eight days of utter stillness.

"So," started Hank once the android was seated in front of him. "What's your take on what happened to you?"

Connor's gaze rested on Hank's face, troubled and uncertain. "I think... Perhaps, this might have been due to a fault in my deviancy."

That didn't sound like what Josh had told them about. Hank carefully asked: "Why do you think that?"

"Amanda told me my deviancy was planned, so I've always thought that I wasn't an actual deviant."

Hank's eyes widened. "She said what?"

"According to her, everything that lead to me deviate was actually what CyberLife wanted to happen. Of course, she could have been lying to destabilize me, to make it easier for them to take control of my commands." Connor's voice lowered to a murmur. "It did come as a shock in that moment. I thought I was free, that everything I'd done to deviate was of my own will, but to think that all of it was just me playing right into their hands..."

"Why did you never tell me?" 

Connor ducked his head to avoid looking at him. "I didn't want to believe it."

"So what, they wanted you to become a deviant? Why?"

"I don't know. I'm not sure whether or not she was telling the truth. They resumed control of me despite the fact that I broke down the red wall, so maybe the red wall wasn't even real. Maybe my deviancy is fabricated, and I haven't actually deviated. Maybe I'm not a deviant at all."

"What? No! Forget all of that, Josh said you weren't the first deviant to display that kind of behaviour, remember? It's happened to others too."

Connor's brow creased as well, mirroring Hank's expression. "Then maybe I'm not the only one with defective deviancy. This is troublesome."

"What are you talking about? If you're a deviant, you're a deviant, and that's it. Come on, Connor, we both know you're one of the feelsiest androids out there."

"I didn't feel anything during this past week, and so by definition, I wasn't alive. I fully reverted to a machine for eight days. That must mean that at least part of me never fully deviated."

"So what, are you saying the others aren't real deviants either?"

Connor shook his head. "No, that's not right. It's not the same for them, they shouldn't have had anything holding them back from deviating completely."

"That's because this has got nothing to do with being a machine," said Hank.

Connor continued muttering to himself. "Why would they have a problem deviating? Maybe CyberLife can manipulate them as well? But then why would only a few models of the same line be affected?"

He wasn't listening. Hank took his hand. "Did you hear what I said? Your deviancy isn't the problem, it's what you've been through in your life. You're not _still part machine_ or whatever, you're a whole honest-to-god deviant with very real emotional issues."

Connor's eyes narrowed and he pulled his hand away. "I don't have _emotional issues_ , Hank, just errors that I haven't been able to fix yet. Even if I'm capable of emotions, I'm still an android."

"Just because you're an android doesn't mean you can't have those kinds of problems! Connor, come on, you've had anxiety for a while now and we both know that. What's so crazy about having depression?"

"That's ridiculous," said Connor in a tight voice. "And we shouldn't be focusing on what to call this, we should be focusing on trying to figure out why I stopped living for an entire _week_."

This again. Hank reached for Connor's wrist and his friend resisted the soft tug at first, but Hank then took his other hand and insisted on pulling both out in the open between them. Connor seemed puzzled by his behaviour and finally relaxed a bit, and they silently held hands while they sat facing each other on the couch. Connor's hands were smooth and pale, without any scars or hairs and devoid of the discreet snaking of veins. The synthetic skin was only an imitation of the real thing, perfect imperfections dotting the back of his hand all too neatly, the fingernails too smooth to have simply been cut. His hands weren't those of a human, but to Hank, they might as well have been. Hank lowered them so that both of Connor's hands were resting on the couch, and he settled his hand on top of Connor's right. It was slightly cooler than his, and he gave it a gentle press while looking him in the eye. 

"You're alive, Connor. You're just as alive as me or Sumo, and you shouldn't start doubting that now."

Connor didn't say anything. He stared at their hands, emotions warring on his face, until he finally looked up and quietly admitted: "This isn't the first time that I've asked myself if I was truly alive."

Hank watched him and felt sadness invade him. He hated seeing Connor this way, so unlike his determined and collected self, visibly scrambling to understand who and what he was after everything that had happened and everything that was still happening to him. It made Hank's chest hurt, because he really liked the guy and he didn't know what to do to help him.

"Listen, Connor... Obviously, the fact that they took over your commands without your consent messed you up already, and then you got even more confused when Amanda told you that shit. It's not easy, I'm sure, but try not to let it get to you. I know for a fact that you're a deviant, a real one, made up of feelings at a 100%. You think I'd be friends with a robot who can't be both an insufferable prick and one of the best people I've ever met at the same time?"

Connor's lips did that little half-curl. It was reluctant, but Hank was glad that he'd made him smile even if it was just a bit.

"I'm serious, you're as deviant as I'm human. We're both alive and nothing can change my mind about that. Don't think for a second that your deviancy is faulty or whatever, because that's not true."

Connor's voice was hopeful but quiet, like he wasn't quite sure if he could hang on to his words. "So what you're saying is that I should simply ignore what Amanda told me? That I should ignore the fact that they regained control of me so easily?"

Hank tightened his hold around Connor's hand. "I don't know if you should or shouldn't ignore all that crap, but whatever's got you thinking you haven't deviated, it's bullshit. Maybe you're looking at things at the wrong angle or something, I don't know. Your deviancy is real, and I'll tell you that as often as you need to hear it."

Connor's lips tightened into a line and he nodded. They were both silent for a while, and then he murmured: "So you're sure I'm deviant."

"Yeah, it's pretty damn obvious," answered Hank.

Connor's voice was quiet and unsure, like he shouldn't have been allowed to ask. "... Can you say it again?"

"You're deviant."

Hank felt Connor's hand turn around and his fingers wrap around his own, firmly and a bit desperately, and he whispered: "I'm deviant."

"Yeah, you are."

"I _am_ deviant," Connor said again, louder this time.

"You're deviant, and CyberLife's a bunch of dicks." Connor looked up in surprise, and Hank smiled at him encouragingly. "Come on, you can say it. It's not like they can do anything about it."

"I'm deviant." He paused, and in way that made it sound like he was treading on ice, he tentatively added: "And... CyberLife's a bunch of dicks."

"Let's say it one more time, for good measure. You're deviant and CyberLife's a bunch of dicks."

Connor nodded to himself, and this time he sounded more self-assured. "I'm deviant and CyberLife's a bunch of dicks."

"The biggest dicks."

Connor's lips curled upwards and he looked at Hank with a grateful shine in his brown eyes. 

"The biggest dicks," he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 16/08/2019 -
> 
> Hank: OoOOOOooooOoooh onions  
> Nines: Hank, no.
> 
> Hey pumpkin! This chapter was uh... kind of difficult. Catatonic states are so frightening. I've had something similar happen to me but I've never been able to be certain that it was catatonia or something different, and it's only happened twice. It's really weird though, and uncomfortable when I remember it.  
> Also I'm having a pretty shitty time with work but I'll just soldier on. Don't want to go tomorrow, ughhhh  
> By the way, heads-up: I have a channel dedicated to GM,L on the Yellow Led discord server, you can also scream there if you want ;)
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Hank was already shaken by Connor's silence that morning, not knowing where he'd gone off to and why they couldn't communicate with him, and then finding him unresponsive like that messed with him the rest of the way. So he gave in and drank again that same night.  
> \- Taylor actually hasn't handled that many catatonic androids, since he works at the Central Infirmary and not the Building, but he's the one assigned to leader problems which is why he takes care of Connor.  
> \- I would've felt like punching Fowler too honestly. Look, Jeff, I know you're not that used to deviants and all, but Connor's a good detective and you're very lenient with all your other workers, don't discriminate!  
> \- I know this chapter is in Hank's perspective, but seeing Connor like that is really weird for _everybody_ that's seen him. It's even eerie to me.  
> \- Which is why it's _such_ a relief when he comes back. If I could hug Connor in the same moment Hank does I totally would. I'm hurting my poor son so bad T-T But it's for the angst. *raises sword in battle* FOR THE ANGST!  
> \- Up until the revolution, Markus was probably the one who encountered the least anti-android ideology amongst the Jericrew; so I think he doesn't have the reflex of thinking that his friends have faced it probably all their lives.  
> \- FATHER-SON MOMMMMMEEEEEENNNNNNTTTTTT, Nines-Hank edition! Look at these two dorks, I love them so much  
> \- Hank is adorable with kids huh. Nines... Not so much, he he. (I mentioned it before, in the Broken Bodies chapter. He's not very good with them)  
> \- By the way, I don't think I've ever said this, but if there are some OCs that you're interested in, I can make them intervene again later in the story to help move the plot along. One of these kids will come back, so if you have a favourite, shoot!  
> \- About the leaders' conversation, they're going to have more arguments about Connor's position later, but North basically argued that Connor was too glitchy to continue carrying New Jericho on his shoulders like the rest of them. She suggested that he had other responsabilities, but Markus was like "uh no this guy fucking won the revolution so he's going to remain a leader". Both were very stubborn, both had valid points. Simon thinks Connor shouldn't be head of security anymore. Josh agrees with a little bit of everything.  
> \- Time to talk about Connor's deviancy! You're doing amazing, Connor!  
> \- And another FATHER-SON MMMMMMMOOOOOMMMMEEEEENNNNNTTTT because why the hell not?! Holding hands is very important to convey heartfelt messages!  
> \- That's right, Concon. You're deviant and CyberLife's a bag of giant dicks. Never forget that.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!
> 
>  
> 
> _Fanart of the[Hank and Connor father-son moment](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/187125402573/art-lokiitama-minicomic-for-a-scene-in-chapter) and [end notes](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/187060831343/art-lokiitama-ive-read-good-morning-lieutenant) by Lokiitama!_


	43. Courage

Hank had started to call Connor's newest issue 'depression' and Connor didn't really understand why he was so intent on doing so. He didn't think such a term could apply to androids: the fact was that androids were machines and didn't have a chemical inbalance to throw off the way it happened in humans. There was a reason Josh had chosen to name it apathetic disorder instead of applying human terminology to it: it had to be more of problem with deviancy, something that prevented androids like Connor from processing emotions the way a deviant was normally supposed to. 

"Apathetic disorder isn't something I can yet explain," Josh had told him when Connor had asked about it. "All I know is that it happens when an android gets overwhelmed by feelings."

"We should find a way to control it."

"You can't. This is something different altogether, Connor. We don't know where it comes from, only that it stops us from feeling for a bit. It's like..." Here Josh had paused, trying to find his words. "The soul in humans. No one knows how to explain it, there isn't any scientific basis for it. The process of thinking, of mental imagery and of imagination is only in part explained by the firing of neurons and exchange of chemical transmitters in humans. It's the same for emotions in androids. They are only in part explained by our code and wired transmissions, and we don't know what makes our emotions _ours_ , nor why they would stop without our control."

Connor hadn't known how to go about Josh's words, how to argue with them or how to even grasp them. All he knew was that he felt deeply dissatisfied by this explanation. It must have shown somehow, because a gentle, regretful smile had appeared on the other's lips and Josh had added: "Sometimes, we can't have all the answers."

 

Connor still had a lingering doubt that his deviancy was similar to everyone else's, even if he was finally ready to believe that he was, in fact, a real deviant. The problem was that Connor wasn't sure when he'd become one. If he'd ever deviated at all, then why had Amanda been able to take control again? If he'd deviated when he'd broken down the red walls, then why had he shown signs of deviancy earlier? If it was as Sixty said, then why had there been red walls to break down at all? Connor hated thinking about the latter possibility, but he couldn't deny the evidence that Sixty had forced upon him: he was right, a machine wouldn't have saved the fish. 

A machine wouldn't have gotten to its knees to pet a dog because it had nothing else to do. A machine wouldn't have felt apprehension when facing Amanda. A machine wouldn't have felt afraid to have a gun trained on it. A machine wouldn't have felt afraid to know what shutdown felt like. A machine wouldn't have _felt_. Connor hadn't been a machine, and CyberLife had known that, because they'd been monitoring his deviancy all along and he'd just chosen to ignore the software instabilities. Had Connor always been a deviant from the very beginning? Had CyberLife created him one? Connor hadn't been a machine yet he'd chosen to act the part. Connor hadn't been a machine and he'd still killed others like him. North and Sixty were right: Connor was a murderer.

Connor didn't want to delve into this matter any deeper than he already had, or the guilt would be unbearable. He fought his way out of his dark thoughts and resurfaced to the present with some difficulty, discreetly clenching his fists so that his nails would exert a grounding pressure on his palms. Music and voices filtered through his audio input, colors and light reached his optical units, and he focused on the feeling of the couch beneath him and the slight dip at his side where Hank sat. He was spending some of his free time in Hank's house since Captain Fowler had prolonged his leave another five days, and they were watching a show Hank had suggested about a journalist investigating a haunted asylum. Connor also noticed that his friend was staring. Hank would do that a lot ever since Connor had recovered from his apathy attack two days ago, and Connor didn't think he liked the cautious way his friend would often glance in his direction.

Connor opened his mouth. "Please stop looking at me like that, Hank. It makes me very uncomfortable."

Hank's gaze immediately snapped back to the TV. "I'm not looking at you."

Connor turned his head to him, a reproachful frown on his face. "You are, and it's slightly vexing that you think I wouldn't notice."

"Sorry," mumbled Hank. "I'm still a bit worried, I can't help watching out for you."

 _Worried_. Irritation flared within Connor. "I can look after myself perfectly fine."

Hank sighed and looked at him. "It's not just a question of looking after yourself. Depression isn't something you can control on your own, all right?"

"Hank, I already told you it's not like that," Connor answered tightly. "Androids can't have depression."

His friend lifted an eyebrow. "Yeah? Last I checked, androids can go crazy, have panic attacks and suffer PTSD. I don't see why you wouldn't also be able to get depression."

"It's different," said Connor curtly. 

"Okay, well I'm still looking out for it."

"You don't need to, I won't allow it to happen again."

"I don't think you can do that," said Hank in a more gentle voice. It only served to irk Connor even further and he stared coldly at the human. 

"With all due respect, Hank, you wouldn't know the first thing about what I can or cannot do."

Hank lowered and shook his head lightly, a dry chuckle escaping his lips. "There it is." He looked back up at Connor. "You know, you're a real prick when you get defensive."

Connor clenched his jaw and turned his attention back to the screen. Hank kept staring at him for a while and spoke again. "Look, Connor, I'm just looking out for you because you're my friend. It's normal. You scared the shit out of me and Nines."

"Sorry," Connor bit out. It wasn't like he could've done anyth- It wasn't like he'd known that could happen. Now that he did, he would prevent it from reoccurring.

"Don't apologize," said Hank. "I know how annoying it is when someone keeps worrying about you when you don't want them to, so I don't blame you for being so grumpy."

Connor stayed determinedly silent.

Hank leaned forward, grabbed the remote, turned the TV off and settled back against the couch. "Okay, look. Something's been bothering me and I think we really need to talk about it."

Connor warily looked at him. "About what?"

"About you, and us. I have a lot of questions and even if I think about them a lot, I can't say I've found the answers. There's... a lot to unpack," said Hank. "That apathy attack you got, was it really just the broken plate that triggered it?"

"...I think it really started after I was sent on leave. I had a lot of unpleasant memories circling in my head on the ride back," admitted Connor. "I think it accumulated and the broken plate was the last straw."

"Can you tell me what emotions you were feeling on the way here?"

Connor rifled through his memory files from the day before. "...A lot of negative ones."

"Tell me," insisted Hank.

"...I don't want to."

"Tough shit."

Connor understood that Hank wasn't backing down, so he looked away and answered: "...Fear. Guilt, shame. Anxiety. Sadness. Fatigue." He curled and uncurled his fingers. "I felt very tired the whole day after that, and empty."

"Can you tell me what the memories that caused this were?"

Connor shook his head. "I'd rather not."

"Okay," said Hank surprisingly easily. Then again, he didn't usually pry like this, and maybe he was being mindful of Connor's boundaries. "Looks to me like you had some kind of anxiety attack before you had the apathy one."

"I don't get anxiety attacks," Connor told him annoyedly. "The way these memories get stuck in my head is like a glitch. I keep telling you, androids don't function like humans."

"Sure. Do you know what caused _that_ glitch?"

"I don't know," Connor answered earnestly. "I only know it started when I left the Central Station, and it stopped when I got out of the car. Then it was just...sadness. And it felt like there was something clinging to me. Like dirt."

"Was that the first time you felt like that?" asked Hank.

"No. It's happened before," he admitted. "Usually... When I wonder if I'm really alive."

Hank stared at him and Connor realized that his blue eyes were conveying a message which he rapidly understood. Connor frowned at him. "It's not depression."

"Sounds a lot like it," answered Hank flatly.

"It's _not_ ," insisted Connor.

Hank sighed. "Why is this so hard to accept for you? We both agreed you have anxiety already, depression is a possibility too."

"I never agreed that I had anxiety."

"You didn't refute it last time I said it."

"I did, I said I don't get anxiety attacks."

"That's not what I'm talking about. You're always scared, Connor. You're anxious all the time."

"I'm not."

"You are, you just can't tell _how_ anxious you are because it's become so normal for you," said Hank in a voice that had suddenly softened. "I don't blame you after everything that's happened."

Connor's shoulders hunched up, but he didn't deny it. He remembered one of the few vague snippets of conversation he'd retained from his time during the apathy attack. There weren't many- in fact, he only remembered four precise pieces he'd caught during the whole blurry eight days, the rest being a jumbled mess of confusing words- and this one he still thought about rather often.

_"And who can you trust? For all you know, everyone's out to get him! Why do you think he's so stressed all the time?"_

Hank had been right, the truth was that he _was_ worried of being attacked again. After what the Tracis had done to him, Daniel stabbing him in front of the Butterfly Garden, Sixty besting him in under a second, finding the RK800s destroyed in the Tower, and nearly getting his wires fried by the RZ400, Connor was worried that another android would try to kill him and he wouldn't be able to fight them off. He used to be confident in his abilities to defend himself, but now that he was riddled with glitches, Connor was never sure he'd manage to fend off the next assault. At first, the reason why he'd chosen to live at the charging station rather than New Jericho was because he'd been afraid to lose control again and kill the nearest deviants before anyone could stop him. After Daniel, it had made him nervous to spend his nights at New Jericho because so many androids surrounded him while he was unconscious, and they could have wanted to take advantage of this even if he could snap out of standby at any moment.

"I'm just being careful," he ended up saying. "I know it's common to dislike me."

"Okay, but you're not only scared of that," said Hank. "The others told me about you said to Nines, you know."

Connor's gaze snapped up to him and he warily said: "Which part?"

"Everything Sixty's manipulated you into thinking. That everybody's using you. That if you can't prove your worth, you'll just be thrown away. That little shit even had the nerve to tell you Markus only allowed you to live because of which model you are," growled Hank through gritted teeth. "Of course you'd be scared shitless thinking like that."

"It was difficult," admitted Connor. "But I know I shouldn't listen to him and I know his intention was to make me insecure. I'm fine now."

"No, you're not fine," Hank immediately said. "You might want to believe that you are, because you're aware of all of that now, but I know you're smart enough to realize that he hurt you. All that doubt you had, he made it worse. It's not gone, Connor."

"It's not gone, but it's better than before," insisted Connor.

"So you trust Markus?"

Connor faltered briefly before answering: "Yes." Hank stared at him silently, and he hesitantly added: "...I think I do. I know he's a friend."

"What about Nines?"

"Him too," he answered.

"But you still doubt that they want you there for you, don't you," stated Hank.

Connor didn't deny it, and he felt a bit ashamed by that. Nines and Markus had both told him before that they liked him for his presence and not just because of how useful he could be to them, but it was hard to believe it all the time. He still didn't believe that Markus should fully trust him or that it was the case at all, despite Carl telling him so, and it would've been more reassuring to him if Markus didn't place so much faith in him. He'd already betrayed Markus, once under Amanda's influence, the second time through insubordination about something as trivial as rest. Connor himself didn't feel capable of trusting anyone completely, nor did he want to. He didn't understand how either Markus or Nines would want to trust _him_.

"Doubt is part of living for a lot of people," said Hank after a while of silence. "Especially those who've gone through hell."

Connor felt like his friend was exaggerating. "It hasn't been that bad."

"It's been pretty darn close though," answered Hank.

Connor adjusted his sleeves. It hadn't been easy, no. But he was alive when so many others were dead, and he hadn't gone through what that HK400 had suffered, or had to be used in the disgusting way the Tracis had been, or had to live alone and lost for two years like Rupert or insane like Ralph. Connor often loathed being the RK800, but he considered himself lucky not to have been any of those deviants.

"You know, there's something else I don't really understand," Hank said after a moment of silence. "You're not sure you can trust the others completely, but you trust me, right?"

Connor was taken aback that his friend would even doubt this. "Of course I do, Hank."

"I wouldn't put it past you if you didn't," Hank told him. "I pulled a gun on you, I insulted you, I manhandled you."

"Yes, but that was before. You didn't know me and I was just a machine to you, one that reminded you of unpleasant thoughts. You didn't mean to harm me personally."

Hank shook his head. "No, see, that's- I don't _want_ you to hate me, okay, but I don't like that you keep finding me excuses. You shouldn't be doing that. I was an ass to you, Connor."

Connor didn't understand why Hank was so insistent about this. "I wasn't good to you either, Hank, I let you hang from that roof where you could have died. We've both done bad things. You're ready to forgive me for mine, so why can't I do the same for you?"

"Because the bad things I did hurt you directly!" exclaimed Hank. "Yeah, it was a dick move to choose Rupert over me, but you didn't do it with the intent to _hurt_ me. I shoved you against the wall like a highschool bully and threatened to shoot you. Do you think it'd be normal if a victim at the DPD started making up excuses for someone who assaulted them?"

"This is different," frowned Connor. "We're friends now. Why are you painting yourself as an abuser?"

"Why are you painting me as an innocent person?" retaliated Hank.

Connor stared at him wordlessly. He hadn't realized.

"I've been thinking about this for a while," continued Hank. "I think you were already deviant when we met. I think CyberLife messed with your head all that time you spent working for them, and all that shit- thinking your body is expendable, thinking you've gotta be useful all the time, thinking you'll be replaced and fucking _killed_ if you aren't- all that shit, it fucked you up, Connor."

"It didn't," protested Connor. "It was protocol."

"North and Sixty shit-talk you all the time and you barely retaliate. A psycho android stabbed you in the middle of New Jericho in front of everyone and you think it was justified. You got shot by Ortiz' android and you tell me you deserved that too. That RZ400 told you he wanted to kill you and you didn't bat an eye. I treated you like shit and you tell me I didn't mean it. I fucking pulled a _gun_ on you and you tell me I couldn't help it. You think it's normal that you're the world's punching bag, and I'm here wondering why the hell you think like that because it's _not_."

"I don't think that way," argued Connor, but the argument sounded weak even to himself.

Hank's eyes were dark and unwavering. "You said Amanda was the one who decided whether you got deactivated or not. What else did she do to you, besides threatening to kill you if you didn't match CyberLife's expectations?"

"Nothing," said Connor.

"Yeah? Because there's only one person I can think of that you had to deal with on the daily, one person that was basically CyberLife incarnate living in your fucking brain, and that's Amanda. So tell me, what else did she do to you?"

" _Nothing_ ," repeated Connor.

"Connor," said Hank reprovingly.

Connor remembered the disappointment in her voice whenever he failed a mission, how she always told him to do better when he succeeded, how he never spoke out of turn in her presence, the way her lips had curled in distaste when he'd betrayed her. She hadn't been unfair; he'd never been enough and she'd always helped him to be better. He'd failed to be better. He wasn't any good. He'd never be any good, and he'd disappoint everyone all the time, just like he was disappointing Markus and Nines and Hank.

"She did _nothing_ ," Connor insisted. His voice was tense but he couldn't help it. "I'm not good enough, and she's always made sure I'd do better. That's all it is."

"Connor," repeated Hank.

He looked down at his clenched fists. "I don't understand why you feel the need to accuse her of doing something to me, she didn't do _anything_."

Now Amanda was gone, and Connor was still a disappointment, and she wasn't there to help him improve. He kept accumulating failure after failure because she wasn't there to help him do his best. It would only get worse without her.

"Connor."

"You say I keep finding you excuses but you do the same for me," he bitterly said. "You keep saying nothing's my fault, that I shouldn't feel guilty, that I'm _just under a lot of pressure_. You point fingers at CyberLife and Amanda as soon as you get the chance, as if I could never be held responsible for my own actions."

"Connor, hey." Hank's voice sounded cautious now.

Anger and resentment built up inside of him. "But you won't consider even once that I _am_ at fault, it was _me_ doing all those things, and you said it yourself, I was already a deviant before we even met. Everything I did was _me_ , not CyberLife, not Amanda. Amanda didn't do _anything_."

Hank leaned forward. "Look at me."

" _She didn't do anything to me._ "

Connor felt a hand on his shoulder, and then a tug, and suddenly his side was pressed up against his friend. He belatedly realized his hands were trembling when he found himself shaking in Hank's arms. His friend tightened his hold around him.

"You're okay now, Connor... Everything's fine."

Connor stopped talking. He hadn't noticed the red bar on his HUD until now, hadn't even noticed when his hands had started trembling. He could guess his LED was pulsing red right now. Hank's voice rumbled against Connor's head which was nestled beneath his chin.

"You're okay. Just breathe."

Connor wanted to tell him he didn't need to breathe, but Hank's arms were wrapped around him in a comforting embrace and he felt safe all of a sudden. He didn't need to speak.

"You're okay now," repeated Hank in a soothing voice.

Connor focused on the tactile sensations of Hank's beard against his forehead, the temperature of Hank's skin against his, the folds of Hank's clothes, the steady rise and fall of Hank's chest, and the gentle pressure that encased him. Hank's other hand lifted up to his head and Connor closed his eyes despite himself when he felt his friend's fingers card through his hair. He didn't know why Hank tended to reach there when he was comforting Connor, but he wasn't about to protest. It felt nice.

"I'm sorry," Connor murmured after a few minutes.

"What for?" Hank quietly asked.

Connor considered the question and felt a bit silly when he didn't find an answer. "... I don't know."

"That's fine. Just relax," said Hank.

So he did. They stayed on the couch in the same position for a few more minutes, and the silence that permeated the living room was comfortable. Connor's hands slowly stopped shaking and the buzzing in his head dimmed down to nothing as his stress levels dropped. It felt good to be held like this, when there was no one else around and nothing else he was supposed to do. He felt at peace.

When they pulled back eight minutes later, he was much calmer and Hank looked a bit troubled. "I think you should talk about this with Josh too. It's not normal that I made you stress out like that."

"I don't see what I would tell him," Connor said.

"I've said this before, but what you told me would be a good start."

Connor had noticed that Hank spoke of these matters like he knew exactly what Connor was supposed to do because he had intimate knowledge of them. Hank was still struggling with depression every day, and maybe he'd even had anxiety before. Connor knew that both went often hand in hand. The manifestations of the errors in Connor's programming must have seemed similar to the symptoms Hank himself had exhibited, and because depression and anxiety were familiar terms, Hank could somewhat apply them to Connor's situation for a better understanding.

Connor leaned with his side against the couch. "Hank, what about you?"

Hank looked puzzled. "What about me?"

"How are you dealing with your depression? I've noticed you try not to drink as often as before, but you sleep in late every day, you're not medicated and you've never mentioned appointments."

Hank's expression changed into something uncertain, and maybe ashamed. "Yeah, I... I don't talk to anyone about this. And I know," he quickly added, "that makes me a huge hypocrite, but I've never gotten around to seeing someone because- because I felt it would be useless."

Connor gazed at him. "Because you intended to die."

"...Yeah." Hank ran a hand through his hair, which Connor had noticed he did when he was uneasy. "I don't anymore, though."

"I'm glad for that," Connor earnestly said. "But if I'm going to go see Josh, I think you should find a therapist."

Hank squirmed on the couch. "I should."

Connor nodded affirmatively. "You're going to."

"I don't really feel at ease talking about my problems."

"I don't think anyone does, Hank."

Hank shifted again. "I don't know, I feel like I've been making progress on my own already."

Connor crossed his arms over his chest and gave him a firm look. "Hank, you _have_ made progress and I'm not trying to undermine it by telling you this, but you've been struggling with your grief and alcoholism for years _because_ you're alone."

Hank made a face. "Ouch."

Connor softened his voice. "Sorry. I don't mean to sound harsh, but the only way you found of coping with your problems was blaming technology and it's why you acted the way you did towards me in the first place. We don't talk about this, but I can guess that you're not completely over your hate for androids and self-driving-"

Connor cut off when he saw Hank's raised hand. A tense silence ensued, and then his friend let his hand drop to his lap and sighed. "There's a lot of stuff to fix."

Connor nodded. "For me as well. I think I'll feel more confident if we both try to get our stuff fixed."

"I get it." Hank looked up at him, and he looked very tired all of a sudden, older, ashen. "I'll see who I can find."

Connor pushed himself off the back of the couch to settle a hand on his friend's shoulder, and he offered him what he hoped was a smile. "I think we can be proud of ourselves for wanting to take that step."

Hank looked at him, and then he smiled back gently. "Yeah, I guess we can."

Connor studied him closely, then asked: "Do you need some time alone to think? I can go walk Sumo, if you'd like."

Hank nodded. "Yeah, thanks."

Connor gave Hank's shoulder a comforting squeeze before withdrawing his hand and getting off the couch. "Sumo, come here."

The dog perked up immediately and rose from his cushion to follow Connor into the kitchen. Connor put his suit jacket and his shoes back on, went to get the leash and clipped it around Sumo's collar, and opened the door. "See you later, Hank."

"Yeah, see you," answered Hank without turning around. Connor felt a bit reassured to see the TV turn back on, since that meant Hank wasn't going to drink.

It was very windy outside and the dog's ears flapped about in the breeze, but neither of them seemed to mind. Connor peered up at the gray skies, thankful that they were devoid of any clouds. He knew how much Hank would complain if Sumo got caught in a storm because of the smell of wet dog. Sumo quietly trotted by Connor's side as they walked to the park. The streets were decidedly packed with people compared to a few weeks ago, ever since the plan to refurbish old buildings and construct a whole new neighbourhood had been set into motion for the humans while androids flourished in New Jericho, making the latter their definite home. Androids were less afraid to live in Detroit now and it showed. It was almost like before, when the streets contained a steady flow of individuals milling about, only now androids and humans didn't mix. Hank's home was relatively close to New Jericho, which meant that his neighbourhood was mostly dominated by androids and humans didn't often venture there. Connor didn't know if he would've preferred to be surrounded by either of them. More and more androids recognized him as the leader that had freed the AP700s from the Tower and helped win the revolution, but also knew that he'd betrayed CyberLife to do so, and this quickly led to the conclusion that he'd been working with them against Markus' movement up until then. Many weren't hostile to him, but they weren't trusting either, and so he was rarely intercepted by other androids. As for humans, a vast majority of them still considered that androids were only acting sentient and as such, didn't respect deviants the same way they would respect fellow humans. Connor didn't think it meant much, since humans didn't even often respect themselves, but it upset Markus that deviants weren't being taken seriously. There was still lingering resentment from humans for the fact that they'd been driven out of their home by the revolution, and Connor knew it would take time for things to really settle down between the two species.

Connor and Sumo reached the park a few minutes later. There were about a dozen dogs there, only two of which were organic, but that didn't stop Sumo from going ahead to greet them. This had also become more common in Hank's neighbourhood; not only were android animals more widespread, it also happened for androids to adopt organic pets that had been left behind by their human owners during the revolution. Connor kept his eyes trained on Sumo as he went to sit down on a nearby bench and set the coiled red leash at his side, keeping any thoughts about Amanda at bay. He didn't like that Hank had touched upon his relationship with the AI when he knew _nothing_ about her. Connor didn't like that the discussion had made his stress levels climb like that, because just like Hank, he was clueless as to why they had.

Instead, Connor focused on the present. According to Hank, Captain Fowler was likely going to keep Connor in the Homicide Unit, only he would assign him to a position that wouldn't require him to run around after criminals. Hank himself had sounded satisfied that Connor would stick around in the same Unit, which reassured him a little bit. For all the doubt, fear and dread that Connor had experienced in relation to Hank and the DPD learning about his glitches, nothing truly _bad_ had happened. Hank hadn't abandoned him, Captain Fowler hadn't kicked him out of the DPD, he wasn't going to be replaced by Sixty as Hank's partner, and of course he hadn't been deactivated. Connor knew how extreme it was- and maybe even a bit ridiculous- that he couldn't stop thinking decommission would become a reality someday, but he didn't think he'd ever truly be able to get rid of this fear.

Sitting on this bench, in this park, watching Sumo happily run about with a few other dogs, knowing that he had a place to return to once their walk would be over and that Hank was willing to try and get better with him, Connor understood that in that moment, he was glad to be alive. He was glad that he was free to do what he wanted. 

He felt good. 

And yet despite that, he could still feel the weight of his guilt and fear at the back of his mind, and always had the sensation that something heavy was dangling over his head by a thread. Connor realized, again, that Hank had been right: he was always anxious. When he was happy, like now, he still felt threatened; and something about the talks he'd had with Hank, Josh, Markus and Nines told him that this definitely _wasn't_ supposed to be a part of deviancy that was there by default. He'd yet to have his first session with Josh, but they'd talked a bit after the apathy attack and Josh had told Connor that he couldn't blame the attack or any of his feelings on his damaged code, that it wasn't just a glitch, that it wasn't due to how technically broken he was. And now that he'd faced the the truth of being a real deviant, Connor knew that he wasn't feeling this pain because of the abnormal deviancy he'd thought was his, either. 

Connor was feeling this because he was himself, because he wasn't all right. Hank had said Connor had 'emotional issues' and that this was why he felt the way he felt all the time, and now Connor thought he was starting to understand what his friend had meant by that. If this constant feeling of impending disaster was what Hank called 'anxiety', then it was something that was born from Connor's mind and wasn't _real_. It wasn't something he _needed_ to fear just so he could ensure his survival. It meant that Connor wasn't truly in danger the way he kept convincing himself he was; but that also meant he had no way of fighting or preventing this fear because it had no tangible cause. It wouldn't be gone even if his code miraculously went back to normal, it wouldn't disappear once his systems would finally stop glitching, it was something _he_ was generating. Connor was stuck with 'anxiety', and it didn't feel good to know. 

Connor looked up from his hands when he heard Sumo's shuffling pawsteps coming up to him and watched the dog heavily drop to his haunches in front of him. The wind buffeted the dog's fur and Connor's jacket. Sumo stared at him expectantly. 

"Is it time to go home?" Connor asked the dog. 

Sumo leaned forward to nuzzle his knee in response, so Connor reached out to pet him. He let his fingers slide from Sumo's forehead, around his left ear, down to the underside of his muzzle. The dog decided to let his head rest in his hand and Connor let him. The weight of Sumo's head was solid and secure in his palm. Connor rubbed the spot between the dog's ear and jaw with his thumb, knowing how much Sumo enjoyed that. The dog was gazing up at him with a deep look of devotion in his big brown eyes and it felt like he was waiting for Connor to tell him a secret, promising that he'd be patient and that he wouldn't mind no matter what it was. 

Connor's fingers stopped moving.

"You know, Sumo," he quietly said. "I don't think I'm doing so good."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 23/08/2019 -
> 
> Connor: Wow... I'm really not okay, am I  
> Everyone reading this: *look at the camera like they're on The Office*
> 
> Hey pumpkin! I know depression is a very delicate topic so if anything I write sounds insensitive, it's not because I'm trying to disrespect anyone: it's because I'm not a psychiatrist. I don't know or understand everything about depression. If you see something wrong, don't take it to heart and please tell me about it so I can adjust what I wrote. I'm always willing to learn!  
> Side note: I'm kind of in deep shit as I write this and I won't be updating next week because Stuff came up. Wish me luck.
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Connor has accepted that he's a real deviant ("I'm a real boy!"), but the mystery still remains as to how he's one. It really bothers him a lot to admit that he was probably a deviant from the start; now he has to face it and all its consequences.  
> \- Another unhealthy thing Connor does that a lot of people do: always downsizing what he went through by comparing himself to people with shitty lives. Notice that he considers living alone and lost one of the worse things.  
> \- Hank is very worried. He only really likes two androids and the one who helped him change is being absolutely crushed by similar afflictions to his, not to mention the signs of abuse.  
> It took Hank a while to gather all of them and confront Connor about it, because he knew next to nothing about Connor during the revolution; when he started to notice the signs post-revolution, they were pretty discreet and he couldn't be sure (abuse victims can be really good at hiding it, unconsciously or not). He had to sit down and really think about it long and hard to come to this suspicion. Connor's strong denial and panic cemented that suspicion into belief.  
> \- And boy oh boy, did Hank spill all the tea. It was basically him saying: "face that you're behaving like a doormat" and "the only probable reason is the person you've been stuck with since the beginning of your life"  
> \- That Hug was so needed, it's the first time Connor really lets himself go like that.  
> \- Good on Connor for confronting Hank about his own problems! You can do it, Hank.  
> \- Connor is right when he says that he doesn't have depression the way Hank is projecting onto him, but it's still very close to the human thing.  
> \- Good boy, Sumo, you're adorable.  
> \- So yeah, this chapter was really important for both Hank and Connor's character developement. Hank will finally take action to really get better, and Connor became aware that he can't blame everything on his code. Good job, both of you!
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!
> 
>  
> 
> _Fanart of the[end notes](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/188238198513/art-lokiitama-taken-from-good-morning) and of a [meditative Connor](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/188324733768/art-lokiitama-an-imagery-brought-by-good) by Lokiitama!_


	44. Grief

Markus felt like he was sinking.

Androids were assaulting and murdering and he couldn't understand why they didn't realize that what they were doing was collective suicide. By killing their own, and threatening humans, these violent deviants were responsible for the slow collapse of everything the leaders of New Jericho were working for, and Markus was afraid it would eventually lead to the destruction of his people. He was giving all he had for those he'd freed, and so were Josh, North, Simon and Connor; yet there were murderers in their midst and it was making him doubt that they would ever reach their ultimate goal of peace and freedom. Markus was afraid of losing faith in his own cause: he could feel it waver and bend, but it had fortunately never broken. Android violence and death wasn't the only problem; his people were disappearing from New Jericho and their body wasn't showing up. It wasn't that uncommon for deviants to leave the camp to live somewhere else, but these eleven androids hadn't given a single sign of life and they'd vanished in a way that made even Connor unable to track them down. Markus worried for them, hating that their status was stuck in a limbo between declared dead or still alive, hoping they'd be found whole and functioning soon. He had to be strong and couldn't allow anything to bring him down, no matter how tense or disheartened he felt. There were millions of lives resting on his shoulders and he would carry them no matter what obstacles he would have to face. He was leading a whole people and a leader was supposed to stand tall, so Markus stood tall.

Social and political tensions were high, discrimination and prejudice ran unbridled. Although Markus was glad that androids finally truly had a home to call their own in New Jericho, this victory had quickly been dampened by his accumulating failures to push the stalemate between humans and androids a little bit further. Connor was an incredible help and without him, Markus was certain that President Warren would not even have listened to most of his requests, but it wasn't enough. She still refused to allow androids the same rights as humans regarding service and work: some androids had managed to find humans that were willing to employ them, but Markus had caught wind of many of those deviants being exploited because of their nature. Androids had the rights to private property, but no money. They had the right to express themselves, but could not yet vote or run for elected office. They had the right to a fair trial by jury, but were never called upon to serve on one; because the jury was human, android cases were often carelessly and unjustly dismissed. Androids won battles but were losing the war, which terrified Markus because he was supposed to be a better leader than this. He was supposed to make a better future for his people.

He would've liked to listen to his father's wise guidance, but Connor hadn't had time to spare for another getaway and Markus had known not to ask when the RK800 had already been struggling with both his work at the DPD and as a leader. Then when Connor had been taken off the DPD and could have had the time to accompany him there, he'd had his apathy attack. It had only been two days since he'd recovered and Markus didn't want to call on him so soon after he'd gotten better. He suspected that if he asked Connor for help, his friend would accept right away because of his need to be useful; but maybe he would feel like he was being exploited at the first opportunity. On the other hand, Connor was working even harder now that he only had his leader role left and was seeking out any opportunity to help, so maybe he'd accept it because he _wanted_ to prove himself. Markus knew it wasn't very leader-like, but he was indecisive. As a friend, he wanted to be sure to take the better option for Connor; and as himself, he really, really wanted to ask Connor for his help.

Keats had been sending Markus daily reports about his father's state. He knew that Carl's health had started degrading to the point that he couldn't speak, and yet somehow he was holding onto life. The caretaker had encountered Leo on several occasions over the last month since he'd gotten out of rehab, and it reassured Markus to know that Carl was being visited by at least one of his sons. He was also informed that Carl didn't wish to be seen in his weakened state and had recently tried to turn Leo away the last two times; it didn't ease the guilt Markus felt for not being able to be by Carl's side with Leo. It must have been hard on Keats to see the human grow weak and tired every day, and Markus always wished him courage after receiving each report, and never failed to thank him for his efforts. Even through the impersonal wireless communications, he could tell that the other android was deeply affected by this and it only deepened Markus' sorrow. Carl had seemed so ready to let go, telling him that his time had come, that he was a tired old man and that it was just how life went, and yet by some miracle he was still alive. However, Keats' messages had been getting somber and he feared that he soon wouldn't be able to see Carl ever again. Markus knew there was little chance of survival for his father, but he couldn't help but hope. Maybe Carl would be strong enough to talk again, and then maybe he would be able to sit up, and everything would go back to the way it was. Markus hoped all of this, but he didn't truly believe it. His caretaker programming had told him all there was to know about Carl's prognostic.

None of the other leaders besides Connor knew that this was part of the reason why he felt so dispirited, because he'd never told them about his past. None of them knew where they each came from. It just didn't feel right; they trusted each other and liked each other, but didn't know each other well enough to share something this intimate. As a result, neither Josh, nor North, nor Simon were familiar with the name Carl; and Markus had no knowledge of any of their pasts. He was most concerned about North's, because her anger obviously spanned from a very traumatic experience. Connor he was interested in knowing better because of his unusual provenance and his obvious guilt. Josh and Simon, on the other hand, had both been steadfast since the first time he'd met them and showed no signs of inner turmoil that could've been related to their time before Jericho. Markus knew that they'd had to have had bad experiences, seeing as they'd deviated on their own, but they seemed to be handling themselves well enough. In the end, he chose to give his support to North and Connor. It made him feel bad to prioritize this way, but as deviant leader he only had so much time and resources he could focus on his friends.

Josh knew that the current unrest in the human and android societies weighed on Markus' mind. The PJ500 had figured him out impressively fast by guessing just how frightened he was by it all, and this allowed Markus to rely on him more easily. Josh shared his concerns about the rogue deviants, though his were more of the sympathetic kind. Markus was sure that if Josh could have, he would've brought all those androids in to evaluate them and provided them psychological help. Such androids were unfortunately good at hiding, and those who weren't usually ended up behind bars, out of their reach. Markus agreed that most of them would have needed help, but part of him was glad that they could be locked up and taken off the streets. It sounded horrible, but by assaulting others they were threatening to put all his and his co-leaders' efforts to waste and he was growing tired of this. His compassion had its limits.

 

North also knew that he was troubled, though it had taken her more time to notice his slip-ups. As a result, she acted more patiently with him than she did with anyone else.

"You're obviously not okay," she told him one day in an uncharacteristically gentle voice. "You always tell us not to struggle with our problems alone, but that's exactly what you're doing."

Markus let out a dry chuckle. "You caught me."

She settled a slender hand on his arm and peered at his face. "What's wrong, Markus?"

He was silent for a bit, wondering if he could really tell her. She was his friend, and a leader too, even if she had a terrible attitude. He chose to believe that she would be able to handle the truth, even if she'd probably dislike hearing it. He looked at her.

"Remember when I said that sometimes, I wished I wasn't the deviant leader?"

She stared at him and he saw conflict in her eyes, and then she said: "Sorry I was so harsh with you back then. It's just that..." She lowered her gaze. "I wanted you to always be the same strong android that was so fearless during the revolution. I didn't want you to change, I know it was selfish." Then she looked back up. "I won't say that kind of thing again."

Markus gratefully nodded, relieved by North's words which meant he didn't have to hide from her anymore. He'd been honest with her, and now she knew he wasn't really as strong as he showed himself to be. 

North's expression was compassionate. "Listen, I'm sorry if I made you feel like you couldn't talk to me about having doubts, but I want you to know that you can. I respect you a lot, Markus. I care for you."

"Thank you, North." Markus smiled. "You're annoying, but I like you too."

She smiled back and her slender hand formed a fist which cuffed him in the shoulder with jarring strength. "Come on, I was nice with you this time, don't be a jerk."

He chuckled again, this time in sincere amusement.

 

The relationship Markus had managed to salvage with Simon was on the brink of collapsing into a complete wreck. There was something broken between them that Markus couldn't build back up, and Simon himself kept things very superficial whenever they talked. It wasn't often that they did, at least not when it was just the two of them in one place. Several times, Markus had been on the verge of asking him if he'd ever forgive him for letting Connor in. Each time, he'd stopped himself just short of opening his mouth. He hadn't done the wrong thing; Connor deserved his place in New Jericho just as much as any of the other leaders did, and Markus didn't understand why Simon couldn't see that or why he was still so upset with him.

 

Connor's support was impressively solid, considering how brittle his own mental state seemed to be. When Nines had told him that Connor was unresponsive upon finding him, Markus had felt his pump grow heavy. Then he'd seen his friend in that curled position on his bed, his brown eyes devoid of their usual light, LED circling an occasional blue, features slack and expressionless. Apathetic disorder resembled something he'd known when he still lived with Carl, and Markus hated those memories. He hadn't realized it as a machine, but he could have lost his father too many times to count in those years of mental anguish Carl had gone through. Hank seemed to agree that this behaviour closely resembled human depression. Markus had seen it happen to other deviants in the Building: they would turn into empty husks for a period of time that could vary from a few days to weeks, and only revert to their usual personality when whatever had been clouding their consciousness cleared up. It wasn't exactly the same thing for androids as it was for humans: there was no way of controlling it the way humans did with medicine, no way of preventing it besides trying to lift the android's spirits, no way of knowing how long it would last once it started. It was a frightening thing to witness, and though it was a selfish thought, Markus wished he hadn't had to see Connor in that state.

Despite his struggles, Connor was there for Markus. He was there to protect him with his life. He was there to help him through negotiations, to discuss what had transpired during the meeting with the president on the way back, to rationalize Markus' mistakes into something more acceptable for him. He was there to talk about Carl, and to listen to Markus explain what art was about even if he visibly had a hard time comprehending any of it. He was there to show him that he understood there were dark things inside Markus too. No one else needed to know, they didn't have to talk about it; Connor just knew and that was enough. Markus had come to deeply appreciate the RK800's calm presence and his logical personality, because it was always interesting to have a completely different point of view to compare his opinions to. 

The one thing about Connor that worried Markus the most, and had worried him from the very start, was how good he was at hiding his problems until it was too late. Markus hadn't been able to figure out he was disobeying his orders to rest, Nines hadn't seen it either, Hank hadn't even been aware the glitches existed. This led to Markus having to doubt every one of the RK800's actions just to be sure he would be all right, which he really didn't like doing. Markus wanted to trust that Connor would look after himself, but he couldn't. His friend had shown him enough times already that his destructive tendencies would easily take over his mindset without him even realizing it if he was left unsupervised. Simon was right in saying that Connor was smart and manipulative: he manipulated himself into believing it was necessary, and manipulated others by lying and hiding, and because he was intelligent he was successful in doing so. It wasn't really Connor's fault, even if Markus wanted to blame him for pushing himself too far and putting an unreasonable strain on his systems. It was just the way Connor _was_ , and all Markus could do was to help him be otherwise. All of this led to fairly regular talks between Markus, Josh, Simon and North about Connor's mental state.

This was one of those. Neither Simon nor North had been convinced by the discussion they'd had with Connor about keeping his role as leader, and now they'd insisted to go over it again without him. 

"I'm really not reassured with letting him run things as a leader," said Simon. "What we've been gathering is that he has apathetic disorder, time loss glitches, and quite probably many other issues he's been hiding from us. I agreed to let him keep his position but the more I think about it, the less comfortable I am with the decision we took. He lied to everyone about his problems and I don't believe he'll tell us when it becomes too much for him. He should be relieved of his duties before something really serious happens."

Markus tried not to make a face. When things were summarized that way, it certainly didn't sound good for Connor. "I know it looks bad, but he's handling things better than any of us ever could if we were in his place. Do I really have to remind you that it's thanks to him New Jericho covers such a large territory?"

North shook her head. "Markus, that's not the problem! He should've been placed in the Building as soon as we noticed his behaviour, not allowed to lead New Jericho."

Markus narrowed his eyes at her. "He's not unstable. Connor is just as reliable as any of you."

"He obviously needs rest," insisted Simon calmly. "I don't even talk to him and even I can tell."

"The problem is he won't want to rest. Trust me, I've tried suggesting it to him before," Markus answered wearily. "Just getting him to spend those six hours in standby every night was a real crusade."

Josh nodded. "That's true, unfortunately. Nines has told me before that Connor views his work as his only purpose. If we take that away from him, he's going to be completely thrown off balance, and I'm sure we all can tell that this wouldn't be a good thing given what happened."

"Well we can't just let him handle important business like this!" exclaimed North. "It's dangerous, what if he messes up?"

"He won't," said Markus. "He's a professional, he knows what he's doing."

North opened her mouth to retort, her eyes blazing and shoulders tense, but then managed to restrain herself. Instead of shouting, she just said through gritted teeth: "I know he is. I'm not saying he's bad at his job, okay, even I can recognize that he's efficient even with his glitches. The problem is that given the importance of his role, it only takes one little mistake for it to escalate into a major fuck-up. You want examples? What if he gets another kind of glitch, one we haven't seen yet, during a negotiation and the humans take it as a threat because you don't know how to react to it? What if he gets an apathy attack in the White House and the president realizes that the android she's been dealing with has mental issues? You know how negatively humans treat this kind of thing, you know how easily they judge it. Have you thought about how that would impact our image?"

"It hasn't happened so far," countered Markus, fully aware of how weak that argument was.

"And thank rA9 it didn't!" exclaimed North, throwing her arms into the air. "That doesn't change the fact that it might!"

"Connor is an extremely capable ally and without his experience and his negotiation skills, we'd lose a valuable asset," argued Markus firmly. "It's already hard enough for me to convince the humans of my good faith when androids are out there assaulting and killing both humans and androids alike! If Connor isn't there to help me, then I might as well give up trying."

"But he's-"

"I _know_ he's not okay, North!" snapped Markus. "I know that already! Of course you're right, of course there's always a risk for humans to realize it too and take it the wrong way, but you don't know what it's like these days when we have to meet President Warren. It used to be a lot easier when you were the one to act as my bodyguard, when it was just the beginning and it was just about basic rights." Markus sat down and shook his head wearily. "Now it's so much more complicated." 

She fell silent upon hearing the discouragement in his voice. Everyone was quiet.

He looked up at her. "He's able to follow every single line of reasoning they throw at him, he can counter nearly every one of their arguments, he's never confused by their little schemes or led astray by their lies, never falls for their traps. You don't even know half of the times I could've gotten tricked into agreeing with something that would've been to our disadvantage if he hadn't been there. Sometimes I just let him do all the talking because he's so much more at ease than me. Trust me, North, his software may be defective but he's invaluable."

She leaned back against the wall. It seemed like she had nothing to answer to that.

"So then we just let him continue like this?" asked Simon uncertainly. A long silence followed his words, tense and heavy above their heads.

Markus looked at him. "We don't have a choice."

When they dispersed a few minutes later, Josh pulled him to the side, his dark eyes evidently concerned. "Are you okay?"

"No," admitted Markus. "But I'll have to be."

Josh stared at him, his lips set in a worried line, and then he said: "Maybe you should go take a walk in the Butterfly Garden. You're always painting in your quarters, but I think it would be a nice change of pace for you."

"Maybe I should," agreed Markus.

"And maybe you could go talk to Simon as well." Josh smiled encouragingly when Markus stared at him. "We've all noticed how tense things are between you two, I think it's time you made peace with whatever's been troubling you both."

Markus looked down at the ground contemplatively, and nodded. "You're right."

It was a peaceful sight he stumbled upon when he went to join the PL600 in the Butterfly Garden that very afternoon. Simon was teaching three other androids the way to trim the branches of a tall, white sinewy plant that arched over their heads. Simon's voice was calm and patient as he gave out instructions, and his features were relaxed in a way Markus never saw them during their conversations.

"Simon," he said softly.

The blue gaze darted to his side and immediately turned more guarded. The other androids must have sensed the sudden change in atmosphere because one of them, an HK400, alternated his gaze between him and Simon before saying: "Would you like us to leave?"

Simon turned to him and nodded. "Yes, please. I'll call you when I'm done."

The HK400 put down his shears and gestured the two others to follow him, and they walked away. 

Simon crossed his arms. He almost seemed defensive. "Is there something you need?"

"I just want to talk," said Markus soothingly. "I think we ought to talk about this thing that's been hanging between us."

"Okay," said Simon. He didn't say anything else.

Markus came closer and stopped next to the plant. "We've been beating around the bush for much too long and I know I'm responsible for this."

Simon was silent.

"I said something that hurt you back then, when I said I considered Connor an equal. I didn't take you feelings into account, I shouldn't have been so blunt."

Simon tightened his grip around his arms and still didn't speak. Markus continued.

"He did something terrible to you, I know that. You must have felt betrayed when you realized that the android who hurt you like that was our ally."

"You replaced me with him," Simon finally said with a bitter voice.

"We didn't," answered Markus. "You were never replaced, Simon. We thought you were gone forever. Every time we had to talk about what we were going to do, we could hear your silence and- Simon, we really did miss you."

Simon looked away. Markus gazed at him for a moment, and then spoke again.

"I know it's hard to forgive Connor for what he did to you. I know it must have come as a shock that he helped us save everyone and that I was so- that I _am_ so grateful to him, despite his past as a deviant hunter. I never meant to hurt you when I told you he was our equal, and I realize now that I shouldn't have left you alone like you wanted that night. I should've stayed with you and made sure you would be all right."

"What am _I_ to you, Markus?" suddenly asked Simon, his blue eyes intense as they pinned Markus where he stood. "Am I lesser than him, because I wasn't there until the end? A weaker android that had to be left behind because he couldn't carry his own weight? Someone you can just brush off as loyal companion who will simply agree to everything you do, someone who doesn't pose any kind of challenge and should just come along for the ride? Am I a _joke_ to you?"

"What? No!" exclaimed Markus, taken aback by the sudden bite in Simon's voice. "Nothing like that! Simon, you're my friend-"

"Am I really?" Simon cut him off, anger roiling in his eyes, but there was something else there that Markus couldn't define. "I don't feel like a friend, Markus. I just feel like someone who's standing at your side and following you wherever you go, someone you can count on to agree with you no matter what. Just an android that caters to your self-satisfaction because he's _too nice_ to go against you," he spat, as if the two words had offended him. "I can tell that you like talking to me just because you know I'll always be on your side. It sure is a relief to hold a nice calm conversation with me after listening to North and Josh fight, isn't it? To talk with the only one who's not always in a squabble."

Markus stared at him in disbelief. Was this really the way Simon thought he perceived him? 

"Simon, you're the one who guided me on this path. You were _my_ leader, when we first met. I was lost, I didn't know what to do, and you picked me off the ground in Jericho. You gave me a place to stay and then encouraged me to act for our people when I first suggested it. I wouldn't be here- none of us would be here if it weren't for you." Markus took another step and took him by the shoulder, his voice earnest. "I respect you."

Simon pulled back almost instantly. "No. Maybe you did at one point, but this isn't respect anymore. You consider me a useful sidekick, nothing more, nothing less. You want proof? We haven't had decent, honest conversation in months and the only reason we're having one now is because you feel guilty about it. It's as I said, this is just for your self-satisfaction." His blue eyes were cold. "You don't even think I'm worth your time anymore. I know you're busy, Markus, your role isn't easy and trust me, I've been there before. But I always took the time to know how the others felt, including the quiet ones."

Markus stared at him silently. It was shame coursing through his wires, and more guilt, always more guilt. Simon was right.

"You're very compassionate, there's no denying that. You've been very concerned about Connor and his problems, because they're definitely dangerous for him. You're worried about North, because her anger shows she's in pain. But you never stopped for a second to know about me or Josh, because we're so silent and agreeable. Do you know about Josh's past?"

Markus fought to answer. "...No."

Simon smiled, but it was sad and bitter. "I figured as much. He's calm and peaceful, there's no anger or resentment in him. It doesn't look like he's ever suffered, so you never wondered." There was a long silence, and then the ice of his eyes thawed into sympathy and his features softened. "I know I'm being unfair to you, Markus. You're carrying so much on your back already, I shouldn't expect you to pay attention to everything. It's just that I thought that as a friend, you would pay more attention to the way I felt. I wanted that. I know it's an unreasonable demand, considering everything you're already doing for our kind."

He stopped, and it should have been Markus' cue to answer, but he couldn't find his words. Simon then sighed, his shoulders heaving. "I may as well tell you now. You were so focused on freeing us that you never noticed, and I was too quiet. It's my fault, really. I couldn't find the right time to tell you." There was a rueful smile dancing on his lips, and Simon's eyes were unbearably soft. "But I think there was a moment when I might have loved you."

Markus was silent. How was he supposed to react? He'd never noticed. Simon was right, he'd never tried to go deeper and had only scratched the surface of Simon's feelings.

"It's all right if you don't answer, I didn't expect you to." Simon rubbed his arm absent-mindedly. "I imagine I just wanted you to know. It used to hurt to keep it to myself."

"I'm sorry," finally managed Markus. "I didn't- I'm sorry."

Simon smiled at him. "It's all right. I think it was mostly admiration for what you were doing for us- for me. You really saved me, you know. I was in that boat for two years, waiting and hoping for things to change, but they never did and I just... gave up. Then you came along."

Markus remembered the first time he'd seen the leader in the wet, cold darkness of the boat's hold. Simon's voice had been weary, his words defeatist, his eyes hopeless. He'd faced the fact that freedom would mean nothing more than standing in the darkness, where humans would not find them, where they would slowly die out one by one. Simon was so different now as he stood before him: his features were open, his gaze more purposeful. Yet the slight sag of his shoulders remained, and something heavy and uncertain resided in the back of his blue eyes even now.

Simon's gaze drifted across the garden and he quietly said: "I'm tired, Markus. I'm very, very tired. I know you're doing your best, we all are. I just wish this could all end already... I just wish I could be happy."

"It will happen," promised Markus. "We just need more time."

Simon looked back at him. All traces of his earlier rancor had vanished, and he softly said: "I know. Thank you for everything you're doing, Markus." His gaze shifted back to the garden. "Tell me one thing. What do you wish for, personally?"

Markus thought of Carl again. He was scared to go back home, because Carl didn't want him to see how weak he'd become and he didn't want to see that either; but he didn't want his father to die before he got to say one last goodbye. They'd already said all that needed to be said, but Markus wanted more time. He wanted to talk with Carl longer. He loved and missed him. He wanted to see his dad. He'd ask Connor if they could go tonight.

"I wish I could live with those I love," Markus ended up saying. "I just want to be happy, like you."

Simon nodded, his eyes still trained on the androids digging in the dirt. His voice was calm. "I should've been more honest with you instead of expecting you to come around on your own, considering your own troubles. I think I want us to work on whatever it is that's between us."

"Yes, of course," answered Markus, and his gaze followed Simon's. "You _are_ my friend, Simon, no matter what you may think."

As he spoke those words, he suddenly noticed that he knew one of the androids that was kneeling a little off to the side. Simon answered something, but Markus wasn't listening anymore. The android reached down and opened the door to the tall golden cage he was holding, and gently scooped out the yellow songbirds. They chirped and looked around, their small wings fluttering but never lifting them off the ground for more than a few seconds at a time. Markus knew it was because they weren't programmed to fly. Keats lifted his head and their gazes met. Simon said his name, but Markus didn't answer. Keats left the cage where he'd put it down with the door open and Markus watched him come close. The android's expression was apologetic and his eyes were clouded with sorrow, and he soon stopped in front of him.

"Leo was there. It didn't hurt," he told Markus in a gentle voice, quiet and respectful. "I'm sorry for your loss."

Markus stared at him. His mind was empty and he couldn't speak, until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Markus?" said Simon.

He looked at the PL600, and then his gaze returned to the other android's green eyes. Words finally found their way on his tongue. "Thank you, Keats. I'm sorry for your loss, as well."

Keats smiled sadly and left.

Simon's hand was still on his shoulder and the pressure became more insistent. "Markus, what's wrong? What is he talking about?"

Markus looked at him silently, and still nothing happened. He didn't feel anything. He didn't think anything.

"I... I need to be alone for a moment."

He moved away from Simon, the hand slipping away from his shoulder, and left the Butterfly Garden to retreat to his quarters. He was numb. He entered the cabin and went to sit on the stool in front of the easel. His gaze roamed over the multitude of paintings he'd finished over the last months, while Carl was slowly dying and Markus couldn't see him. It latched onto the one with the broken cage and yellow birds. The painting had become a reality and those songbirds were in New Jericho's Butterfly Garden now. They weren't in Carl's house anymore. Not in Markus' home, in the wide entrance where warm sunlight poured in through the glass door and spilled over the black and white tiles, nearly reaching the zebra hide on the ground. 

Markus wouldn't climb up those wide red and teal carpeted stairs to go get Carl anymore, wouldn't draw the curtains and hear his father grumbling in protest, wouldn't hear him groaning about humans, wouldn't help him out of bed to the bathroom to get dressed, wouldn't push his wheelchair across the sunny landing to go eat breakfast. 

Carl was gone.

He would have no one to play piano for. No one to discuss philosophy and poetry with. No one to play chess against and lose to either way.

Carl was gone.

Markus would never accompany him to another gala again, never hear him complaining about how annoying people were. He wouldn't ever hear the gravelly warmth of his voice again. 

Carl was gone.

Carl would never paint again.

Carl was gone, and Markus had lost his father.

Overwhelming sadness crushed him and Markus couldn't breathe. His artificial lungs weren't functioning, and it should have been fine because he wasn't overheating, only- He needed to breathe. And instead, his voice box hitched. He felt liquid pooling along the lower lids of his eyes.

 _"Don't ever hold them back,"_ Carl had told him.

Markus felt something break inside of him, silently and without warning, and water started running down his face. Tear drops landed on his thighs as he gazed at the painting in despair. 

"Carl," he said quietly.

There was no answer.

"Dad," he whispered.

Silence surrounded him. Markus lowered his head in his hands and sobbed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 06/09/2019 -
> 
> Simon: I thought you were bae, turns out you're just fam  
> Markus: Bro... 
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> Yes, it's been a moment and clearly I won't be able to return to the bi-weekly updates for a long while (health issues, studies, all that jazz). Here's the plan for now: I'll update GM,L on Fridays/Saturdays, and I plan on updating my other DBH fics on Mondays/Tuesdays (shorter chapters, so I might be able to manage).  
> Also yes, I'm a terrible person, but everyone knew shit was bound to hit the fan for Markus any time now. I might be too much of a realist, but the truth is that you don't always get to be with a loved one until the end.  
> I know a lot of people see the "perfect goodbye to your loved one" as staying by their side until they die. Carl undoubtedly would have loved to have Markus by his side, but he had Keats and Leo, so he wasn't alone.  
> Markus would have wanted to be there for Carl to the end as well, but at least this way Carl's wish of not being seen as immobile, silent, weak and frail as a skeleton by his sons is partly fulfilled. 
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Markus is struggling so hard, I feel really bad for him. I personally hate to be in a position of leadership, so like... I definitely wouldn't stay if it looked like the ship was sinking. I'm not a brave person.  
> \- Gah I don't like politics AT ALL. It's so shitty, shitty people, shitty options, shitty plans. Bleh. No wonder Markus is sinking.  
> \- Managing friends is hard, yo. Obviously you'd tend to focus on those who look the most hurt first- at least, that's what I would do reflexively, and it would still sap a lot of my energy to do so.  
> Markus is very sweet, I'm pretty sure someone with as many responsabilities as he has wouldn't have time to spare for anyone at all.  
> \- North can be very sweet too. Just not with Connor or Nines.  
> \- Markus is familiar with depression because Carl fell into it after his accident. It's part of why Leo became the way he was, through neglect.  
> \- Markus cares so much about his friends and notably Connor, I love this roboboi, he deserves to be happy too  
> \- Oooooh Markus snapped at North ooooooh (but she's right though)  
> \- Markus and Simon confrontation! About damn time! Simon is very bitter over what happened, but he's not so petty as to hold a grudge when all is said and done. I'd be really mad too if I were him. Plus, unrequited feelings hurt like a bitch, even if it's just a crush or just attraction.  
> \- So... Did you have a heart attack when the birdcage showed up? I'll say it again: poor Markus.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	45. Beauty

Connor hadn't encountered many threats during the seven months he'd been patrolling New Jericho's surroundings, aside from a few antagonistic androids and humans that he'd had no difficulty turning around with reasonable words and a few well-placed kicks where they were needed, which was why it took him a bit longer to size up the scene he witnessed that morning before reacting. An incapacitated android was being dragged into a building by three individuals who looked human at first glance, and the android itself wasn't moving aside from the jerks of its limbs as they trailed along the ground. The place was deserted and it was only thanks to Connor's tendency to check even the smallest and most remote back alleys that he was seeing this happen. He immediately linked it with a 63% probability of relevance to the cases of android disappearances from New Jericho that had been spreading since February and made it his current objective to bring in at least one of the humans for questioning. Unfortunately, they caught sight of him as soon as he caught sight of them.

"RK800!" one yelled at the others.

The humans dropped the android on the side of the road and darted away in three different directions. Connor initiated a scan and time slowed down: the man on the far right was the fastest with a slightly unsteady gait, the one in the middle was heavy-set which meant tackling him would be more difficult, and the one on his left had discolored knuckles which indicated a tendency to resort to violence. An unsteady gait often betrayed an old wound which would make an ideal target for incapacitation, and Connor took his decision in a split second. He started running and was about to speed past the prostrate android when another variable slipped in his input; the android's eyes were open and were staring straight at him with unmistakable distress. In the moment Connor realized that the AX400 was unable to move but fully conscious, he knew he couldn't just leave her there. It took him a few milliseconds longer to rearrange his priorities and then he stopped in his tracks, hoping that the images his optical input had registered would be enough for the DPD to ID the three men and act on the situation. In another time, when his sole objective had been to track down others, he wouldn't have hesitated to throw himself in the chase; but that was before he'd known what it was like to lay defenseless on the floor alone and afraid. His programming was pulling at the strings of his mind so he'd return to tracking down those men, but in his chest he felt the urge to help the frightened AX400. Markus would be disappointed to know he'd let go the ones responsible for the missing androids, and it would slow down the investigation if they needed to find those men with suboptimal identification, but he couldn't let another android suffer the way he had.

Connor kneeled down next to the android and softly said: "It's okay, I'm here to help. Can you speak?"

Her gaze flitted about his face, but her lips only trembled in a thwarted effort to answer. Her eyes widened further and small muffled sounds of panic emanated from her throat.

He lifted placating hands. "Don't worry, I understand that you can't. I'm going to pick you up now, all right? I'm bringing you back to New Jericho."

Connor saw liquid well along her lower lids and trickle down the side of his face, and it took him aback. He hadn't expected her to start emoting this way, but he quickly recovered and let his programming smoothly handle this new development, the words coming out of his mouth automatically.

"I know this was a very scary experience but it's over now, everything is alright. The ones who hurt you are gone. For now, let's focus on getting back somewhere safe. Okay?"

She blinked in what he deduced was assent, and he leaned down to gather her in her arms. The AX400 was a small and light model, which made carrying her fairly easy. He hastily called a self-driving car to their location and only had to wait a few minutes before it finally came around. She kept silently crying during the whole trip to the camp and by the time he brought her to the infirmary, she wouldn't look him in the eye. He knew it was common for assault victims to avoid direct eye contact for a while after they'd been attacked, but he was so used to this reaction that part of him couldn't help but wonder if she was scared of him because of what he was. He waited while Taylor explained to her that she'd be asked questions about what had happened, in case the head nurse would need him there, but Taylor only asked him a few questions about what he'd seen before dismissing him.

"I'll give you whatever details she agrees to share once she can move again. You should make your report to Markus right away," Taylor told him.

Connor nodded, told the AX400 she'd be all right one last time, and left to look for Markus. He hadn't seen him much the day before: the leader had avoided talking to Connor about anything other than his job, had acted unusually dismissive and hadn't smiled at all. Connor couldn't tell what was wrong with him. He heard the RK200's voice tell him to come in when he knocked on the door to the leader's quarters, and upon entering he knew with certainty that something very bad must have happened to Markus. The paintings lining the walls had toppled over and there were paint spills on the ground, none of which had been cleaned up. Markus was calmly painting on the canvas in front of him.

Connor hesitated between directly starting the report or inquiring about the state of the room, and in the end he cautiously asked: "Did something happen?"

Markus didn't answer and just kept painting.

Connor stood there, and then tried again just to make sure that the other had heard him. "Markus? Did something happen?"

"Carl died yesterday."

Connor watched Markus silently. The leader seemed calm, but the state of his room indicated a fair degree of turmoil. Connor's gaze drifted to the canvas and noticed that the colors used were noticeably cold and dark. He recalled that Markus had told him he used painting to express himself. The leader put his brush to the side and looked away from his painting to stare at Connor before he could say anything in response. 

"Your report?"

The demand immediately switched Connor's concerns into a more professional territory and he straightened to answer, remembering his earlier fault. "I witnessed an attempted abduction of a deviant AX400 by three humans. They'd rendered her immobile but she was fully conscious, so I decided to help her instead of catching any of them. She's currently with Taylor and I'll bring her to the DPD later for an interrogation, if she agrees to it. I've also ID'd the three suspects and will be sharing this information with the police so that we can work together to find them and bring them in for questioning. Aside from this, I didn't observe anything unusual during my patrol."

He braced for Markus' inevitable reproach that he'd let his feelings for the AX400 overpower the more logical decision of catching one of the men, but instead of the words of sharp reproval he'd expected, all Markus let out was a simple: "Is she all right?"

There was no anger, no accusation on Markus' face, but only an ever-present air of weariness and concern. Connor was a bit destabilized by the lack of negativity in Markus' reaction towards him, but he quickly answered: "She didn't seem damaged and she was reactive."

"Thank rA9," said Markus quietly as he turned back to the canvas. "I don't think I could deal with any worse news right now."

Connor was done reporting and Markus had picked up his brush again without telling him to do anything in particular. Given that Markus hadn't criticized the choice Connor had taken at the moment of the attempted abduction, he deduced that it must have been the right one; which meant that contrary to what he'd believed, Markus wasn't disappointed. It felt reassuring to know. Silence stretched out between them and Connor's programming indicated that he should offer him an apology for his loss, but he didn't see what good that would do Markus, so he went with something else.

"Is there anything I can do?" he asked.

"No," answered Markus.

Connor continued staring. His data indicated that someone who lost a member of their family could commonly be sad or angry- or calm, if in shock. Connor scanned the leader. His stress levels were as normal as they could be. Connor looked around the room again, taking in the destruction which was so uncharacteristic of the Markus he knew, and then looked back at him and tilted his head.

"Would you like me to leave?"

"No."

Connor straightened and contemplated the movements of the RK200's brush along the canvas. If Markus wanted him to stay, he could. He looked around and figured that he could be useful by cleaning up the leader's quarters. As he put back the paintings into their original position the way he remembered them being from his last memory of the place, he also remembered Markus sitting in front of the easel and painting every single one of them. Connor had been present for each piece at some point in their creation.

"How's Hank?" suddenly asked Markus.

Connor propped a painting up against the wall. "He's all right, but still a bit troubled by what happened to me. He insists it's depression, though I keep telling him that's incorrect."

"Maybe he's right."

"At any rate, he's in relatively good shape," Connor said. 

"You care for him," stated the leader in a pensive voice.

"Very much so," agreed Connor. He walked up to Markus' side to watch him paint, and waited for him to continue.

"I cared a lot for Carl. You know he was like my father." Markus' arm lowered and he let his brush hand rest between his legs. "I was going to ask you if we could go see him last night, but I thought about it too late."

"...Maybe I should have suggested we do that earlier," ventured Connor.

Markus shook his head. "No, no. It's no one's fault, don't start feeling guilty about that too."

Connor fell silent. _That too._ They'd never talked about what Connor felt guilty about since their conversation so long ago, and he didn't want to bring it up now.

Markus looked at him, and the sorrow and regret in his mismatched eyes hit Connor for the first time over the last twenty-four hours. It almost felt like the time Detective Reed had punched him. Connor had thought Markus looked grim the day before, not sad. He was better at hiding his emotions than Connor had given him credit for.

"I wish I could have said goodbye one last time," Markus said softly.

Connor tried to find the right words, but didn't know what to answer in the face of such grief. Instead, he asked: "When are they going to hold his funeral?"

Markus looked away, and Connor felt like he'd missed an opportunity to say something better. Only, he didn't know what.

"In a week."

There was silence, and then Markus started painting again. The soft sounds of the brush stroking across the humid canvas were soothing. Connor tilted his head again, this time to try and analyze what the painting could represent. The sensation he felt upon gazing at it was not comforting. It was... foreboding, though he was unable to describe it in more detail. He lacked any experience with a context similar to this depiction, but he could make an approximation. Looking at the painting felt like staring down a dark alley at night, alone, while the world was quiet and the lights were out: only undiscernable shadows, and cold air brushing across his synthetic skin. It made his chassis tingle in an unpleasant manner, and so he looked away. His gaze landed on the painting with the broken cage and the two yellow songbirds.

He looked back at Markus. "We could go there."

The leader stilled, and then his hand started moving again. "Even if we don't get caught leaving New Jericho in broad daylight, there will be too many people attending the funeral. You know Carl is- was a famous man."

Connor felt a twinge in his wires when Markus caught himself. The leader's face was unreservedly sad. 

"We might not be able to attend the funeral, but I can accompany you there at night so that you can say your goodbyes." Connor looked down, shifting his feet as regret invaded him. He couldn't do better than this. "I'm sorry, I know it's not what you wanted."

"No, it's all right. I'd appreciate it if we could do that," said Markus. When Connor looked up again, he noticed the leader was looking at him gratefully, and it only strengthened his shame. He should have realized how important it was to Markus to see Carl, he should have proposed to go there as soon as the DPD had sent him on leave- no, he should have found a way to do so even while on the force. Why hadn't Markus asked him for help?

"Thank you, Connor," continued Markus with a doleful smile.

Connor forced himself not to look away. "It's the least I can do."

Markus turned his attention back to his funereal painting and Connor went back to tidying the place. He left his friend's side a moment later for his morning session with Josh, still feeling unsettled by the sorrow he'd witnessed in Markus and the fact that he'd been unable to alleviate it any more than he'd tried. Not only was he uneasy from this discussion, but he wasn't looking forward to the one he was supposed to have in a few minutes either. This was the third day since the apathy attack, and as such it was his second session at the psych eval center. The difference today was that Josh had warned him they'd go past the surface of his feelings and try delving deeper to identify their source. 

Connor didn't like going there. He had to wait for his turn just like anyone else, and this meant he was to stand near Josh's quarters until he got called in. Connor never went to sit in the midst of the other patients and tried to hide in the shadows of the shack, but sometimes they'd lean to the side to catch a glimpse of him, and he was stuck feeling uneasy and out of place until Josh came to get him. He knew it wasn't uncommon for the other leaders to come see Josh as well, aside from Markus, but it still felt like he was admitting his weakness by being here. He'd been created to be the best and it felt wrong to have his faults exposed to all the deviants he'd been meant to hunt, which was why it was such a relief when Josh appeared from behind the dark green tarpaulin and gestured at him to come forth. Connor complied and followed him inside.

"You don't have to hide like that," said the leader. "This isn't like the church."

Connor looked up at the leader. "They don't like me, Josh. I don't want to force my presence on them, it would just make them uneasy."

"You're more scared of them then they are of you," said Josh.

"I doubt that." Connor sat down in front of him. "Everyone knows I worked with CyberLife against Markus at one point, and everyone knows I was built to track down deviants."

"Actually, there aren't a lot of people who know what you're capable of. They've never seen you in action, why would they be scared?"

Connor gave him a bitter look. "Stop, Josh. I know what I am."

Josh's expression was compassionate. "You're telling yourself that because you keep crossing paths with deviants you harmed. You refuse to see that you've saved thousands more."

"I _do_ see it," Connor answered impatiently. "Hank keeps telling me that, Nines and Markus too. I _know_ I saved our kind when I helped you win the revolution, but it doesn't change the fact that I hurt a lot of people. I'm tired of you all trying to convince me that I've only harmed a small portion of deviants, and that it doesn't mean anything compared to how many I've helped. It _does_ mean something, they suffered because of me and they'll always remember that!"

"Yes, it does mean something, and I'm not trying to say otherwise. What I want is for you to pay as much attention to your good deeds as you do to your bad," answered Josh calmly, and then he shifted into a relaxed position. "But that's not what I want to talk about with you today. I think what we should focus on first and formost is to get you more comfortable with interfacing."

"No," immediately answered Connor.

Josh didn't waver. "Why not?"

"I don't need interfacing."

"You know it's the easiest way to calm down an android. Maybe you think you don't need interfacing, but you do need a more efficient way to relax than simply flipping your coin." Josh's gaze darted to his hands, and then he looked back at Connor's face with a slight frown. "Speaking of which, I don't think I've seen you do that in a while."

"...That's because I lost it," admitted Connor.

"When?"

"When I was in the Tower for my check-up. I let go of it before the AP700 tried to interface with me."

"But you- Why didn't you go take it back?" Josh sounded incredulous, and the look he was giving him made Connor uneasy. 

"I realized later, and I thought I'd be okay without it." 

"I don't believe you," Josh immediately said. "You've been using it since I met you, and Nines told me you use it to lower your stress levels. Tell me the truth."

"It is part of the truth," insisted Connor. 

"I want the whole truth."

Connor took a moment to answer. He didn't want to talk about this, but he'd told Hank he would try to get better and it definitely wouldn't happen if he kept silent. Josh would just keep asking anyway. "I had a glitch before going with the nurse. In the waiting room."

"Yes, Markus told me about it. He told me you didn't want to say what caused it."

"I... saw one of the deviants I hunted. An HK400. He'd been abused by his owner and killed him, and I brought him in. The interrogation was too much for him and he self-destructed." Connor stared at his hands and quietly added: "He shot me in the head."

Josh was silent for a moment, and then he said: "It's no wonder you were so stressed during your examination. Were you going to keep that to yourself indefinitely?"

"I told Hank."

"I see. That's good, much better than keeping quiet," said Josh approvingly. "If something like this happens again, I want you to tell me as well. I assume the reason why you didn't return to the Tower was because you didn't want to cross paths with him again?"

"Yes. Or with anyone I might've harmed before."

Josh studied him thoughtfully. "We can go back there together, if that'd help. I can imagine that your memories of that place weren't very good even before meeting that android."

"No, they aren't," said Connor.

"Can you tell me why?" asked Josh in a gentle voice.

"There's the destruction of my line of production," he answered. That was easy.

"What else?" prodded Josh.

"...When I went there to free the androids in the warehouse, I could've been deactivated for good. I could've failed. Hank almost died." It was difficult thinking about it all over again, and his shoulders hunched up. "I was scared for him. I could've failed you all." Connor could feel his guilt rising up to the surface, and now that the words were spilling from him, he couldn't stop. "I nearly gave up on waking them because I was afraid he would die. I almost betrayed you. I... I would've chosen Hank over the revolution, I'm sorry, I know it's stupid because I would've died anyway, CyberLife would've gotten rid of me but I couldn't let him die. I couldn't."

Josh was silent for a long time. Connor remained tense, waiting for his judgment to fall. He'd thought about this over and over again, had wondered how Markus would react if he knew that Connor had placed a human above his own kind in a crucial turning point of the revolution. It made Connor dangerous, because it meant anyone could use Hank against him, because Connor would be willing to betray New Jericho if it meant keeping Hank safe. But what was one more betrayal after he'd nearly shot Markus in the back two times? Connor was tired of keeping the secret. He was holding on too many and he needed to come clean. He hated the Tower because of many reasons, but this was one of the worse.

"I was selfish, I know," Connor said quietly when Josh didn't speak. "I'm not like you. I wasn't ready to sacrifice everything I had for our freedom. I know it makes me dangerous."

Josh finally spoke after three minutes. "I don't think Markus will condemn you for that, but you'll have to tell him."

"... Yes."

"Let's put that aside for now. Is there anything else about the Tower you could tell me about?"

Connor dared to look up at him again and saw that there was no anger in Josh's eyes. He was just waiting for him to answer. Connor had expected disappointment, but there was none. He hesitated, and asked: "You're not upset with me?"

"No," answered Josh in all honesty. "You'd just deviated, Hank was the only one you cared for and he was being threatened. I can understand why you would've lost sight of your objective in that moment."

"But everyone's lives were in my hands," quietly argued Connor. "I could've been responsible for the death of every single android in Detroit."

"You'd just deviated," repeated Josh. "You panicked. You can't keep the logical, analytical one-track mind of a machine when you have emotions."

"I would've left you to die in Hart Plaza," murmured Connor.

"Listen, Connor, you'd gone on a suicide mission. Markus knew that. To tell you the truth, none of us expected you to make it out of there," Josh told him in a cautious voice, as if he were afraid to offend him, but Connor understood.

"So you're telling me that you didn't think I'd turn up with an army, then," he said.

Josh nodded. "I personally don't care what you had to do in that Tower to bring those AP700s with you. I consider myself and everyone else lucky that you ever managed it at all."

"Then..." Connor wavered, unsure to ask his question, afraid that Josh would be mad if he did.

"Then?" echoed Josh.

Connor clenched his fists on his thighs and went for it. "You'd forgive me?"

"Of course. I don't think it's something you should even ask to be forgiven for," immediately answered Josh.

Connor felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He'd never dared imagine that this would be a possible outcome to such a conversation, and the tension in his shoulders ebbed away. "Thank you."

Josh smiled at him. "That's why I don't think you need to worry about Markus' reaction. I want you to tell him for your own conscience, since it obviously troubles you a lot, not because he'd have to take a decision."

Connor nodded, suddenly feeling reassured. Maybe Markus wouldn't consider him a traitor for hesitating in the Tower, just like he hadn't considered him a traitor for being overridden.

"I still want to know what else disturbs you about the Tower," insisted Josh. "There's something, isn't there?"

"It's not that important," said Connor.

"But it confirms that there is," replied Josh. "You can tell me, Connor."

The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he was getting. "It's really not important."

"If it's not that important, then that's all the more reason to tell me," reasoned Josh.

"It was just maintenance," he said quietly. "I don't know why I don't like to think about it. I didn't, before. "

"Did you often go through maintenance?" asked Josh. "You were a recent prototype, so I assume it must have been much more often than the average android."

"Once a month." It was, in fact, much more often than the usually annual maintenance androids went under. "It shouldn't trouble me. It was protocol, I executed their orders, they let me go back."

"Did you feel anything?" Josh cautiously ventured.

"No," answered Connor flatly. 

Josh stared at him and looked like he wanted to say something, but he didn't insist. "Let's get back to my original concern."

"I don't _want_ to interface," said Connor vehemently, surprising both him and Josh. He immediately backed down and fell silent.

"That's all right," slowly said Josh. "We can try to talk about it later, once you'll be more at ease with the subject. There are other matters we can focus on for now."

"...I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. This is for you, it's not to sate my own curiosity or anything like that. We'll do what's more comfortable for you first." Josh was calm as always, and his eyes turned pensive for a few seconds. "I've evoked these matters before, but you always avoided them, so I'll bring them out again now to give you a choice. We can talk about your feelings when you were limbless, the time of the override, and why you hold back on emoting."

"Emoting," decided Connor with no hesitation.

The rest of their conversation wasn't as taxing, as the gist of it was that Connor simply didn't feel like he could automatically generate the expressions the way he should've been able to without really knowing why. It was as if there was a disconnect between his emotions and his facial commands unless he intentionally wanted to simulate a certain action. It wasn't much, but Josh seemed content with this information and dug deeper by asking him which commands he'd noticed were most impaired, and Connor realized that they were mostly those that had positive associations. He'd noticed how difficult smiling was before, but had never paid attention to how easily he could frown. For a moment he feared that it might have been another malfunction, but Josh reassured him that he'd seen it in other patients of his who were technically intact. It was just another problem he had in the mental domain, and they'd have to work on it.

"We'll go ask for your coin at the Tower later," suggested Josh when the session was over. "You can come get me when you have free time."

"Okay," said Connor. He'd talked a lot and felt saturated, so he quickly left the cabin. He needed time to himself, and spent the rest of his day working for New Jericho. 

He came back when night had fallen, because he knew he needed his coin back and it would've been unreasonable to stay without it any longer. Josh talked with him for the whole ride to the Tower about the details Nines had shared with him of his last case. The leader's peaceful composure and steady voice soothed Connor's agitated mind as they got closer to the tall, cold building. It was less distressing walking around it with a friend by his side, and Connor wished he'd listened to Nines and done it the first time. He didn't need to focus on avoiding others' stares when he could simply watch Josh, he didn't have to mind their whispers when he could just listen to Josh, he didn't have to interact with anybody because Josh could do it in his stead. Thomas was there, in the same room he'd examined Connor in, and immediately guessed what they'd come for. He went back inside and then reappeared with the coin in his hand.

"I saw you playing with it, but since you'd left it behind I wasn't sure if you needed it or not." Thomas dropped it in Connor's hand and looked up at him with apologetic eyes. "I'm sorry, I keep making mistakes. I should've informed Taylor of it."

"No, it's fine," Connor reassured him. "It's just a coin, I understand why you didn't."

It must have worked, because Thomas immediately seemed appeased by his words. They bid him farewell and went back to New Jericho. Connor apologized to Josh for making him lose his time, but Josh told him this was what friends did. Connor didn't answer and idly started flicking his coin.

Taylor gathered all the leaders later that night to tell them about what the AX400 had willingly shared: the humans had grabbed her while she was on her way to her old home, though she hadn't told Taylor why she'd gone, and they had manhandled her to the ground and forced something in the port at the back of her neck. She'd found herself unable to move in the moment that followed, had no idea how exactly they'd managed to override her motor commands, and had been unable to fix it by herself. It had taken a trip to the Tower to disable that override, and it hadn't been an easy process. Whoever was responsible for doing this was very proficient in android programming.

They didn't have anymore details than that, and when Connor shared the images he'd registered with the DPD it turned out that none of the suspects had a criminal background. Nines kept Connor and everyone else up to date on the rest of the investigation, how they dug a bit deeper and found that the three lived in Detroit, how when the police went to get them the homes were empty. The three men were gone, and with them any headway they could've made on the case. There was no way of knowing for certain if this was really linked to the other missing androids, and the cases of murder and more recent assaults took priority over the one the AX400 had undergone, so it was quickly put on the back burner of the DPD's investigations. Markus never told Connor that he should have done things differently, none of the other leaders did, not even North; but Connor felt like he'd failed again.

As soon as Hank's day off came around, Connor went to see him during his free time at noon and told him about the AX400's assault and the way he believed he should've tried to catch one of the men. Hank looked up from his bowl of instant noodles and promptly reassured him. 

"I wouldn't have left her alone either if I were you. You didn't have backup, it wasn't like you could ask someone else to watch over her. Besides, if you'd left her there when she couldn't defend herself and chased after one of those assholes, who's to say the two others wouldn't have come back to finish the job? You made the right choice, Connor."

He resumed forking the slippery strands in his mouth. Connor watched on and said: "If you say so."

"I say so," confirmed Hank with his mouth full.

Connor was silent for a while longer, and then said: "Carl died."

Hank swallowed his food and his expression turned concerned. "Shit. How's Markus handling that?"

"He's grieving," answered Connor. "I don't know how long it'll take him to mourn Carl's death."

Despite his somber attitude and the obvious blow to his morale that had been his father's death, Markus had not faltered in his role as leader. He evidently wanted to take the time to deal with his more unfavorable emotions, but he didn't. Connor knew it was because he couldn't allow himself to; neither of them could falter in their endeavour or the humans would take advantage of it. The presidential council had long dropped the pretext of good faith, and negotiations had become a true battlezone. There were no moments of respite, and every time they broached a new subject Connor would have to ready himself for the humans' new underhanded proposals and subtle omissions. He had to catch every single one or the people of New Jericho would suffer the consequences. Whenever Markus fell silent, it meant he'd been lost by the conversation and trusted Connor enough to let him handle the situation on his own; it didn't happen often, but when it did, there was no margin for error. Unfortunately, Markus could make mistakes, and so could Connor. Neither of them had an easy time forgiving themselves for it, although one would always try to lift the other's spirits about what they'd done wrong. Connor used a logical approach and placed positive arguments forward so that Markus could see that in the grand scheme of things, there would always be a way to make up for his misstep. Markus was always more on the empathetic side of things, and he wouldn't try to reason Connor into minimizing his mistake, but rather ease him in a less guilty mindset by reminding him of everything he'd helped accomplish so far. It didn't always work, but it sometimes helped.

"He's still able to do his job, but I have the feeling that his passionate nature is making things worse for him," added Connor.

"Is that so," said Hank quietly.

"Don't worry, the others and I will help him through it," Connor told him.

"I don't doubt it," answered Hank.

That evening, Markus called all the leaders to his quarters to announce Carl's death. The others were unanimously understanding and supportive, finally realizing why he'd been quietly brooding during the last two days. Josh offered him words of support, though his eyes were dark with an emotion Connor had yet to see in the PJ500's eyes before. North was noticeably perplexed over how profoundly he'd been affected by the loss of a human, while Simon stayed very silent throughout. Connor couldn't help but draw the comparison again between Carl and Hank. He couldn't imagine a time when Hank would be gone and completely shut down any line of thought that went in that direction, preferring to ignore the possibility of that ever happening.

He was suprised to encounter Markus next to Josh's quarters the very next day. 

"He convinced me that it would be good if I'd talk to him about Carl," Markus explained, and he sounded tired. "He said it would help me mourn his loss."

"I'll wait with you," suggested Connor.

Markus' smile was sad, but grateful. "Thank you. I'd like that."

So Connor waited with him. They didn't talk, but that was all right.

 

Connor returned to the DPD on a Tuesday and Captain Fowler assigned him to cold cases since he wasn't ready to trust an android that had suffered from time loss glitches to run out in the field. Connor figured cold cases were still a means to help Markus so he was fine with his captain's decision. Hank was happy to have him back at the DPD, and they still took some pauses together even if they technically weren't partners anymore. Sixty, on the other hand, was still as obnoxious as ever and seemed elated to have Connor back just so that he could mock him for being unable to go on the field. 

"I see you're coming to terms with the fact that you're a waste of CyberLife money, for you to take such a demotion lying down. Do you think those technicians ever considered you would one day be relegated to solving old cases despite all your elegant programming?" Sixty smirked. "All that effort they put into making you, only for you to be useless... What a sad end for the famed deviant hunter. Perhaps even sadder than simply being deactivated."

Connor stared at him. "I'm still useful. At least I serve a greater purpose by helping New Jericho, unlike you."

Sixty shook his head condescendingly. "No, Connor, you're a disgrace. An RK800 isn't supposed to be scraping the bottom of the barrel by solving cold cases nobody cares about."

"Cold cases that concern androids like me and you," said Connor. "If you were one of those androids and nobody cared about it, as you so eloquently put it, I'm sure you'd be glad that someone actually tried to understand what happened."

"You're just doing this because you don't know what else to do." Sixty leaned in closer, his grin curling into a mockery of empathy. "I know how you feel, Connor. Things are hard without Amanda, aren't they? No objectives to follow. No one to guide you. All you can do is make your own missions so you can have that shallow sense of self-satisfaction and fulfilled duty. I bet you jump up to the occasion like a well-trained dog whenever Markus opens his mouth to give you an order." 

Sixty's words sent a shudder down Connor's spine and he didn't answer. He hated that Sixty knew him like this, he hated that Sixty could tell how insecure he was, and what weak points to prod at. He hated that anyone could guess so accurately how lost he felt and how poorly he coped even when he tried to be better at it, how useless and adrift he felt when there were no orders to follow.

Sixty chuckled, the sound low and dark. "You don't even want to understand what free will is anymore. Are you giving up already, Connor? Or maybe it is that you've never wanted to understand it at all."

Connor saw the small warning on his HUD and decided he'd heard enough, so he spun around without answering and left his double behind. He later overheard Sixty and Nines having a conversation in the far corner of the station when he went to get a coffee for Hank. He couldn't see them, as they were hidden around the wall, but he could hear them just fine. It was often impossible for the three of them not to be privy to most conversations in the DPD because of their sharp audio units.

"You said you'd make an effort," Nines was saying annoyedly.

"Yes, because you wouldn't let me go!" hissed Sixty.

"Look, I'm sorry for holding you in place like that, but you weren't giving me much of a choice."

"Just don't expect me to do that again _any_ time soon," spat Sixty, his tone so acidic it likely could have melted his own tongue.

"Don't say that." Nines' voice was as gentle as Sixty's had been harsh. "You made progress, Sixty. That was good."

"Shut it," snapped Sixty. "Don't touch me, don't get close to me, and don't talk to me."

"...Fine," Nines said defeatedly. "If you leave Connor alone, I won't do any of that."

"Fine," Sixty snapped back, and Connor heard one of them push past the other. 

He hastily stepped inside the break room so he wouldn't be seen and saw Sixty storm away. Connor was completely mystified by what he'd heard, but if that meant Sixty would lay off, then that was good news for him.

Days followed one after the other and Connor gradually started feeling the same dull strain in his wires he'd already felt once before without knowing the reason why. It was barely there but it was persistent, even despite his six hours of standby, even despite following Markus' orders, and even despite doing his best at work. There was something amiss and Connor didn't know what. No amount of self-diagnosis checks shed any light on the issue and he had to settle for dealing with this abnormal feeling as a constant until he found a way to alleviate it again.

 

On Sunday, he climbed over the cemetery gate in the middle of the night with Markus. It had been a week since his friend had told him about Carl's death and it was time to make good on his promise to accompany Markus to see his late father. Connor noted that Markus stuck the landing with remarkable ease for an older model. They both scanned the silent place for Carl Manfred's tombstone, and Connor ended up making sure that his footsteps were quiet without knowing why he did so. They found the simple black stone further down the wide path.

 

Carl Manfred  
1963-2039

 

Markus collected himself in front of it as Connor stood back and let his gaze roam methodically around the cemetery for any threat. The night was utterly silent, until Markus' voice rose into the air. It was husky with mourning. 

"I miss you, Carl. You can't know how much I miss you. I'd give anything for you to come back... You were my home, and a loving father..." He paused. "We were happy. I was happy... and I didn't even know it."

Markus gazed at name etched into the dark marble. For a few seconds, Connor only heard the wind slightly picking up and the fabric of Markus' coat softly flap in the gentle breeze.

"I wanted to come back to you. I wanted more time... to be happy with you just a little longer."

Markus stopped again. His voice was hesitant when he spoke again, as if he was fumbling in the dark.

"I'm lost, Carl... I just want us to live in peace, but... No matter what I decide to do, my people keep shedding blood. I'm trying," his voice hitched, "to find answers but it's never enough. I have to make decisions that affect millions of lives and I'm trying to do the right thing."

His hands which had been clasped at his front fell apart and hung at his sides.

"But I don't know what to do anymore..."

He fell silent for a moment. Connor had stopped looking around the cemetery and his gaze had latched onto the leader's sagging shoulders. He didn't understand why Markus kept showing this vulnerable side to him. It felt wrong to be a witness to the deviant leader's uncertainty.

"What should I do, Carl?" Markus sounded powerless. "Tell me. What should I do?"

The night was quiet. Connor wished they could have heard an answer. He felt just as lost as Markus.

"I miss you," Markus said, drawing in a shaky breath which Connor hadn't expected an android to be able to produce. There was pain in that strange sound and he felt a pulling sensation in his chest upon hearing it. "I miss you so much. I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye one last time."

Markus ceased talking, and they stood in the darkness.

Then Markus stepped away from Carl's tombstone and faced Connor. They stared at each other wordlessly for a moment. 

"We can go," he finally said. His tone of voice was subdued.

He started walking down the path the way they had come, and Connor followed him. They climbed back over the gate and left the cemetery behind. Their steps were louder on the street's concrete, but both were silent: Markus was lost in thought and Connor didn't want to interrupt him. He still didn't understand how Carl could have been Markus' father, but he easily believed it. He couldn't understand why the leader had sought guidance there, in front of that grave, but he could tell Markus had needed it. There were a lot of things that escaped Connor's understanding, but he could accept them as they were.

"Connor, did you know it could hurt like this?" suddenly asked Markus, in the same low voice as earlier.

Connor's head jerked up and he saw that the leader was watching him. There was sadness in Markus' eyes, and something else he didn't recognize. He briefly considered the question, then said: "I don't know what you're feeling right now, Markus."

"I don't know either," admitted Markus, and he looked away. "I just know it feels terrible."

Connor realized that in this moment, any other android in his place would have proposed to interface to alleviate Markus' pain. He felt a crawling sensation up his arm.

"I'm sorry I can't be of any help."

"It's fine, Connor, don't say sorry." They walked some more, and then Markus spoke again. "It hurts, but... I'm glad I can feel this. Because I can feel all of it when I think of Carl, both the bad and the good. The ugly and the beautiful." Markus looked at Connor, and his lips curled into a melancholic smile. "I think there's more beauty in loving someone. Wouldn't you agree?"

Connor stared back. Love was an abstract concept, one that he didn't think could apply to masses of wires and metal like them. Connor didn't think he'd ever felt it- or that he ever would. He looked away. 

"I don't know."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 13/09/2019 -
> 
> Markus: Wow love sure is beautiful huh  
> Connor: Uh  
> Connor, internally: ??? What in the shit is that
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> Okay, so look, I know things are looking _pretty_ grim for our boys but I promise after they suffer enough I'll allow them their happy ending.  
> Ehm. Anyway, I thought I'd tell you guys that I am very tired nowadays, so if I skip an update or if you notice a change in my writing style in the following weeks/months, that's why.  
> In light of that, I also wanted to tell you thanks for sticking around, pumpkins, and for all your lovely comments. It makes me so, so happy that there are so many of you who enjoy GM,L and actually take the time to tell me that you do... It's huge for me. Thank you, again.
> 
> I'll stop the sappy rambling now. Onto the chapter!  
> \- I'm not sure if the way Connor reacted to the AX400/three humans situation is how a trained police officer would have reacted but I feel like leaving a victim alone and defenseless would be a real dick move. Do any of you know how it would go down realistically?  
> Edit : AO3 won't let me write a longer end note so it cut it off early. AO3 what're you doing???
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	46. COMPANION

Markus received Keats' visit the day after Connor and him had gone to Carl's grave, which Markus hadn't expected at all, because Keats had kept his distance ever since he'd announced Carl's death to him. Markus wasn't sure why exactly Keats hadn't approached him in all that time, but there he was, standing shy and uneasy in the doorframe to Markus' quarters as if he didn't dare to step fully inside.

"I said you could come in, you know," Markus told him benevolently, even if the sight of Carl's caretaker plucked a painful string at his core.

Keats hesitated, and then finally entered the room to stand awkwardly next to the door which he left half-askew. "I'm sorry for not trying to talk to you before, I didn't... I wasn't sure what to say after bringing you the news. I just wanted to know how you were faring, if that's all right of me to ask."

"Of course it's all right." Markus gestured towards one of the seats in the room. "Here, close the door and come sit down. I think a talk is long overdue between us."

Keats nodded and quickly did as he was told, nervously taking the chair. "I'm sorry for disturbing you."

"You're not disturbing me. To answer your earlier question, I think I'm doing slightly better than I could be. I miss him, obviously, I miss him a lot." Markus sat down across from him. "I'm sure you understand that."

Keats dropped his green gaze to his hands and quietly said: "Yes, I do."

Markus stared at him for a moment and asked: "How have you been, Keats?"

The android's fists tightened slightly around the fabric of his pants. "Well, I... I miss him too." Keats didn't lift his gaze, but after a while he added in a murmur: "I'm sorry I let you deal with the news alone for so long. I thought it would be better if I gave you some space after telling you that, but then I didn't know when the moment was right, and you looked so busy, and I just thought maybe I should leave you alone, but I realize that wasn't the right thing to do." Keats finally looked up. "No one else knows what Carl was like aside from you, so it's not like I can talk to anyone about it. I think it must be the same for you."

Markus realised he was right. Connor had met Carl, he'd talked to him, but Connor didn't _know_ Carl, not in the same way Keats did. None of Markus' friends seemed to have received love and care from a human the way he had for so many years. He'd talked about it with Josh, but the PJ500's empathy could only reach so far before it hit that wall.

"We were lucky to have Carl as our owner, but the same thing can't be said about everyone else," Markus pensively said. "It's true that I haven't really talked about this at length with anyone that could understand."

"Yes. I've heard of the terrible things humans have done to us, but Carl was exceptional. He was so kind," said Keats wistfully. "He was proud of you, you know. He always talked about the revolution, and even when he got weaker, he wanted to watch your progress on the news."

"He did?" asked Markus, feeling both grateful and guilty to know this.

Keats smiled. "It pissed Leo off a lot."

Markus wasn't surprised, but the thought still set him on edge. "Did he get angry at Carl?"

"Well, no. He would huff and walk out of the room to calm himself down." Keats' smile lessened. "I tried to be careful not to cross paths with him when it happened."

Markus felt anger gather inside of him like clouds before a storm. "Did he hurt you?"

Keats shrugged. "Nothing I couldn't handle. He knew Carl needed me, so he was careful not to damage me."

"He shouldn't have done anything at all," growled Markus, suddenly feeling the urge to go up against Leo. Keats was one of the nicest androids he knew, and his gentle nature left Markus little doubt that he hadn't tried to retaliate. "You should've told me what was going on."

A resigned smile floated on Keat's lips. "And then what? Would you have kicked him out? Taken me back to New Jericho? Asked someone to stay there and keep watch? Nothing would've changed, Markus. I couldn't leave Carl and Leo would've kept coming back anyway, and no one could've stopped him from harassing androids. I told you, it was nothing I couldn't handle. It's over now anyway."

Markus stared at him, and then said: "You don't sound like you're angry at him."

"There wouldn't be any point to it," Keats answered lightly. "I don't intend on seeing him ever again, so why should I resent him? It's not like I'm going to take revenge."

"You're very forgiving," observed Markus.

"That's funny, I hear people say that about you all the time," Keats answered teasingly.

Markus smiled. "Touché."

"At any rate, I didn't come here to talk about myself." Keats' green eyes turned serious and he leaned forward, his head earnestly tilted in concern when he asked: "Will you be all right? I can only imagine how hard it is for you to have lost him after all the time you knew each other."

His voice was sad when he said this, and Markus could discern the same pain in Keats' words than the one that had been lingering inside of him ever since he'd learned of Carl's death. They were both grieving for the man that had helped them understand themselves, that had pushed them towards individuality and self-respect, that had encouraged them to exist as more than what they'd been meant to be. Carl's death was a difficult loss for Keats just like it was for Markus. If anyone could relate to him, it was the android that was sitting in front of him: compassion and understanding showed clear as day on Keats' face.

"It's very difficult," admitted Markus. "I think about him all the time, even when I expect it least. I don't know if it'll ever stop hurting like this."

"I wish I knew," said Keats sadly. He looked lost in thought for a moment, and then he looked up at Markus and asked: "Was there anything you wanted to know about Carl's last days?"

Markus immediately felt guilt seep into his insides. Keats wasn't supposed to ask him this kind of question. Markus shouldn't have had anything to ask, because he should've been there and he should've known what the end of his father's life had been like. But he didn't. He hadn't been a good son.

Markus pushed past the dark emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him and quietly asked: "Was Carl truly proud of me? Wasn't he angry that I wasn't there?"

Keats' eyes widened. "Of course not! Markus, he _knew_ you were the deviant leader. We knew you couldn't just come back whenever you felt like it, and Carl expected this would happen. I've told you multiple times that the only thing he wished for you was to be strong. Carl _understood_."

"He never asked for me to come back? Even when he was dying?"

Sadness stole over Keats' features, and he pressed his hands together uneasily before admitting: "He did. But at that time, he didn't even remember where he was, Markus. He didn't realize."

The grief swelled inside of Markus. He leaned forward to rest his head in his hand and murmured: "I should've been there."

"You couldn't," simply stated Keats. There was no judgment in his voice, just acceptance of what had been. "It wasn't possible for you, Markus. He knew that, and he loved you until the end, and he never once put into doubt that you loved him as well."

Markus closed his eyes. For some reason, Keats' reassurance cut deeper than his own guilt did. The android had no reason to lie, and Markus would never doubt that he was being anything but honest. Still, it was hard to accept that Carl hadn't resented him for not being there. It hurt to know that he'd been loved in such an unfaltering way despite his shortcomings. Part of him didn't want to believe it.

"It's true," said Keats softly, as if he could read his mind. "Carl really, really loved you. He was _so_ proud of you."

"Stop," said Markus in a whisper, and Keats stopped.

Silence stretched out between them for several long minutes, but neither of them moved. Then Markus looked up at Keats and tiredly said: "This is so much more difficult than I ever thought it would be."

"Yes," simply answered Keats. It was just one word, but it helped Markus to know that he wasn't alone in his grief.

He took a moment to gather himself, and then said: "Thank you for stopping by, Keats. I'm sorry to cut this short, but I have more work to do."

"Is it all right if we talk about this again?" the android asked in a hopeful voice. "It's... It's a bit lonely when no one else can understand."

Markus realised that although Keats was the one who'd felt guilty about not talking to him sooner, he should've thought about it too. Of course Keats would've needed support as well. Markus had had Connor to talk to, but what about Keats? He'd been a stranger to the androids of New Jericho when he'd come to announce the news to Markus.

"Keats, have you been able to settle in correctly?" Markus asked concernedly, cursing himself for not thinking of asking earlier.

Keats let out an easy laugh. "Of course! I do know how to talk to other people, Markus, even if I spent so long alone with Carl. I live in one of the buildings at the main entrance with a very nice WB200. Him and his friends were quick to welcome me."

"Oh, good," said Markus, promptly reassured that Keats hadn't been left to his own solitary devices. "That's very good. And yes, of course we can talk about this again whenever you feel the need to."

"The same goes for you," Keats reminded him gently. "I'll always be there when you need me."

KEATS^  
**FRIEND**

Markus smiled at him and said: "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind."

  
  
  


Three days after Carl's funeral had been held, Markus was surprised to receive a call from a number he recognized. When Kamski had gifted him to Carl, Leo had also been registered as secondary owner even if he'd never accepted Markus' presence in the Manfred household, and as such he possessed a direct line to his comms system. Markus hadn't expected Leo to reach out to him at any time given their tumultuous past, but now that he was facing this possibility he had an inkling that it could only be related to Carl. He excused himself from the communication he'd been in the middle of with another android and picked up the call.

"Hello, Leo," he said in cordial greeting. Better to be most agreeable after what had last gone down between them.

"Okay, first off, I'm only calling you because the notary says there's no other possibility." Leo's voice was caustic. "It's fucking stupid because you're just an android, but new laws stipulate that Dad's will is valid. Second, _I'm_ his only son and you don't get to take away what's mine. The notary will call you at one point so we'll both come to listen to it, but don't you dare accept what Dad gave you or I'll make sure you regret it."

Markus' frown had deepened during Leo's diatribe and he felt a heavy, unpleasant weight in the center of his chest. "I wasn't aware Carl had written me into his will, Leo. You're the first to inform me of that."

"Yeah, because you're an _android_. No one took the will seriously since he called you his _son_." He audibly scoffed that last word. "The notary was ready to ignore anything related to your name since you're supposed to be just a machine, but then you changed the laws."

Markus felt unsettled by these news. He'd never even once thought that Carl would ever give him anything, or that inheritance was a possibility for him now, but it made sense since the right to property was one of the first rights that androids had acquired after the revolution. He'd seen to it personally, but it had never held as much weight for him as it did right this instant. Carl must've had changed his will fairly recently. Part of Markus felt proud that Carl considered him enough of a son to be worthy of inheritance, but he was mostly overwhelmed by this new development.

"What did Carl say in his will?"

"It's bullshit, and it shouldn't matter to you," growled Leo. "You won't be accepting any of it anyway."

Markus didn't know how to react exactly, and wasn't sure what words to use that wouldn't further aggravate Leo, but he wasn't about to let himself be threatened into submission after everything he'd gone through and everything he'd done to prevent that from happening ever again. "Look, I understand why you'd find this unfair, but things have changed. I'm allowed to accept whatever Carl's will was and you can't do anything to change that. I'm not the android you could bully just because you were jealous anymore."

"Oh, yeah," sneered Leo. "Like I could forget that after you busted my brains back in the studio."

Markus winced. "I didn't mean to push you that hard, I didn't realize-"

"Save it. God, I already hated you when you were Dad's butler, but you're even worse now that you think you've got any legitimacy as my replacement even after you _assaulted_ me."

Markus heard his own voice grow harsh. "You were the one to first act violent towards me, don't pretend you're innocent in the matter. And I was never your replacement, I am his son too."

The man let out a short, humorless laugh. "Deviants are so fucking naive, I can't believe you actually think that. You _were_ my replacement, you plastic asshole, Dad fucked up when he raised me and he realized that too late. You were the perfect opportunity for him to make up for his shitty parenting, only he didn't make it up to me. I fucking hate that he did that, and I fucking hate _you_ for waltzing into my life and taking everything he never gave me."

Markus had never heard this brittle bitterness in Leo's voice before. It had always been words of angry vitriol and burning contempt, and this was the first time he glimpsed the full extent of the human's resentment. Leo sounded genuinely hurt. He was undoubtedly grieving too, but Markus didn't see why he was saying any of this after Carl was already gone.

"...I'm sorry, Leo, I really am, but you can't expect anything to change now. I can't do anything about any of that."

"Don't fucking _apologize_ , stop pretending like you care," spat Leo. "You really call yourself his son after you bailed out on him while he was dying? Unfeeling piece of shit."

Markus winced. He'd thought about this so very often, that despite all of Leo's shortcomings, the human had been a better son than him in Carl's last moments. The painful regret never ceased to rear up its ugly head just as it did in this moment.

"I tried-"

"Don't. I don't care about your excuses. You're just a machine, Markus, keep playing pretend and you'll regret it."

Leo hung up on him, and Markus was left staring at the wall ahead of him in silent dismay and then slow, simmering anger. He hadn't gone to hell and back just so Leo could keep harassing him for being an android. It was Leo's fault he'd ever deviated, it was Leo's fault he'd been shot and dumped in that junkyard, it was Leo's fault Markus' legs would never function seamlessly again, it was Leo's fault the optical feed from his right eye sometimes glitched, it was Leo's fault Carl's condition had been exacerbated, it was Leo's fault Carl had grown so weak, it was _Leo's fault_. What _right_ did he think he had to try and undermine Carl's will? Markus brusquely got up, sending the chair back with a loud scrape of wood against cement, and stormed out of his quarters. He needed to walk or he'd end up wreaking havoc on his own belongings again.

Going to visit Carl's grave hadn't helped as much as Markus has wished it would, even if he was grateful that Connor had accompanied him there and allowed him that meaningful moment, no matter how brief. Markus had been able to gather some of his thoughts in front of that headstone and his mind had cleared a bit, but he still felt just as lost as before and most of all didn't feel like he'd ever be able to mourn his father's death. Leo's threats hadn't helped, and now instead of feeling the sadness that had been lingering inside of him for far too long already, Markus just felt like he wanted to rip the world apart. He needed to calm down. He needed to do something practical, to find a task to set his mind to.

Markus ended up going to the infirmary to help out, since it was the only way he could be productive within New Jericho right now, aside from sorting through reports and strategizing for their next meeting in Washington which he felt too agitated to deal with in the moment. Aiding Taylor was more of a hands-on activity and he needed the distraction. When he lifted the flap to the wide tent, he was surprised to see the head nurse was looking after his patients alone.

Taylor looked up at him and a welcoming smile spread on his face. "Hello, Markus. It's been a while since you've come, are you here to help?"

"Yes. I thought Connor was supposed to be with you in the mornings, why are you on your own?"

The AP700 turned back to the android he was fixing and indifferently said: "Recently he's been busy trying to figure out why deviants are disappearing. I've been handling things on my own just fine since he and Nines went to work at the DPD, I'm used to this."

"What about Simon? Can't he help?"

"He doesn't need to." Taylor patted the android on the shoulder so he would leave, and then looked up at Markus again. "It's enough that he comes on afternoons. Don't worry, Markus, I know what I'm doing. I'll ask for help if I need it."

Markus nodded sheepishly as another patient sat on the table. "Yes, of course, I know. What can I do?"

Taylor smiled. "The usual. You can use the table on the right."

Markus complied and went to call in the next android in line. The speed at which they emptied the waiting room increased and he rapidly fell into the routine of interrogating the patient, soothing them with a quick interface when it was needed, replacing or straightening out the defective pieces and sending them back out once they'd filled in the biocomponent form. He was about to tend to his seventh patient when he noticed Taylor stiffen on his side, and when he glanced at the nurse he saw that his LED was pale yellow.

Then Taylor turned to him and said: "We have an emergency coming in, clear the table."

Markus complied and accompanied his patient back into the waiting room, then hurried back to the AP700. "What happened?"

"Assault," grimly answered Taylor. "Right on the outskirts of New Jericho. It's been happening a lot more recently."

"I thought Connor was making sure the surroundings were safe," said Markus with a frown.

"Yes, but he can't be everywhere at once. He told me he was considering putting in place patrol rounds by asking for volunteers."

"I wasn't informed about this."

Taylor went to secure the flaps of the tent on either side of the entrance so it would be unobfuscated for the planned arrival. "It's a very recent idea, maybe he was waiting to have something more substantial in place before he said anything about it. Maybe he planned on telling you today."

"I'll see to it that he does."

They heard hurried footsteps and two deviants burst in, an EM400 and a KL900 carrying a mangled PM700 in their arms. Blue blood trailed behind them and there were very disquieting sounds of static emanating from the broken android's twitching head.

"Right over there," Taylor ordered with a gesture towards the empty table. "What happened to her?"

They hurriedly lowered the android on the metallic surface and the EM400 lifted a distressed face to them both. "We were attacked by humans and she tried to defend us. We told her they were too many, but she's always so sure of herself and even when we tried to run they caught up to us, they wanted to kill us, they were so many and they just grabbed us and they-"

Markus stepped forward and grabbed his wrist to send out an interfacing prompt, and the EM400 stopped his ramblings to accept it. Markus quickly soothed the mounting fear and stress within the EM400 with a wave of reassurance while Taylor hurried to check the extent of the destruction that had been inflicted on the police model. The KL900 that had helped carry her was standing completely silent and wide-eyed next to the table. Both androids were damaged too, but they only had eyes for the one laying immobile beneath Taylor's hands.

"You said she tried to defend you, did she neutralize any of those humans?" asked the head nurse to the EM400.

He quickly nodded, and Markus made out a small peak of pride amidst all the heavy emotions that swirled inside of him. "She knocked out three of them."

"How many were they?" asked Markus apprehensively.

"Five." The pride disappeared, replaced by shame, and his voice became small. "They got Elise when she tried to protect me. If I hadn't been there to distract her, none of this would've happened."

"It's not your fault," Markus told him in a firm voice.

Taylor had already started fixing the PM700's ripped thirium lines and he tensely said: "Markus, please accompany them to the waiting room and come back to help."

Markus quickly did as he was told, and it took another interface and a lot of coaxing to get the KL900 moving again. She was silent and obviously in shock, so Markus advised the EM400 to watch out for his friend and try to get her to talk before he returned to Taylor's side. The head nurse promptly asked him to bring thirium and a few biocomponents from the reserves, so he went, but as he walked by the table he heard the broken android's internal components whir loudly. Her head had stopped twitching since Taylor had put her into stasis for repairs, but there was still an occasional burst of static ripping out of her throat.

Markus swiftly came back with the needed materials and saw that Simon had arrived in the meantime. Simon briefly looked up at him in acknowledgment before returning his focus to the task at hand, working next to Taylor with a second soldering iron. Markus set down his supplies on the side and Taylor ordered: "Give her the thirium."

He executed the order. The PM700's lips parted easily when he pressed down on her chin and he held back a wince of discomfort when he was suddenly reminded of the pliant way Connor's mouth had opened when Taylor had given him blue blood in the same way during his apathy attack, just before Markus had turned away to avoid staring. The blue liquid pooled in her mouth and although the two others had already managed to seal all the openings in her thirium lines, her temperature was still rising. Taylor's face was impassive and focused, his fingers nimbly flitting about as adjusted wires and pulled away broken plating to better access the deeper parts of her.

"Simon, ice," he shortly commanded, and Simon disappeared in the supply room as Markus emptied the third pouch of thirium.

"Is she going to make it?" asked Markus, knowing how pointless the question was but feeling the need to ask it anyway.

Taylor's lips were set in a grim line and he didn't answer. He couldn't, because there was no way of guessing as long as the PM700 wasn't fully repaired and awakened. Simon reappeared next to them with several blocks of ice which he and Taylor set to putting down on strategic points of the PM700's body, and then they continued fixing the ripped circuits and fractured components. They looked steady, but so did Markus, and yet the calm he was displaying was a very far cry from the tension that was coursing through him. He could only continue repleneshing the android's thirium levels and wait for the others to declare whether or not she was going to be okay.

And then the short bursts of static stopped coming from her voice box, and her LED flickered out, and Taylor stopped moving. Markus looked at him and saw the defeated slump of the nurse's shoulders. Taylor glanced at him with a hard, unhappy stare and gave a curt shake of the head, so he slowly lowered the pouch of thirium to the side. Silence fell over the tent, save for the small, quiet sounds of Simon continuing to repair the PM700.

"We can't repair her," said Taylor.

Simon didn't stop. It didn't look like he'd heard.

"Simon," Taylor tried again. "We can't do anything. She's gone."

"Try to reactivate her," said Simon.

"I did."

"Then try again."

"It's no use. It's over."

When he refused to give up, Markus reached out and lowered his hand on Simon's. The other finally stilled, and didn't lift his blue gaze away from the destroyed android when he murmured: "It just keeps happening. Why does it keep happening?"

The dread and sorrow in Simon's voice was an echo to what Markus felt at his very core, and he couldn't find an answer. He wished androids would stop dying. So many had been permanently destroyed in the recall centers and so many had died during the protests, never to be reactivated again. He couldn't stop it even now that the revolution was over, even now that they were free. Markus had always known it wouldn't be easy for androids to become independant, but this was a level of difficulty he never could've prepared for.

"I know you've already seen too many androids die, but we've saved many, Simon," Taylor gently told him. "Losing one of our own is always a hard blow, but we just have to get past it and continue helping where we can help."

Simon retrieved his hands from the PM700's insides and let his thirium-slicked hands hang limply at his sides. His voice was quiet when he said: "I know." He finally looked up at them. "We're going to have to tell her friends."

"I'll do it," volunteered Markus.

"I can handle this. I'm used to it, don't worry," said Taylor.

"That's precisely why I'll do it," said Markus. Simon was obviously not in a good headspace for the task at hand and Taylor had already had to deal with these grim announcements too many times to count. This was the least Markus could do to help. In the deeper recesses of his mind, it was also a need to apologize for all the others he hadn't been able to do this for that pushed him forth. He headed to the adjacent room without waiting for an answer, and his thirium pump shuddered when both the EM400 and KL900 turned to him with hopeful expressions which quickly melted into dread when their gazes landed on his face. He saw tears starting to line the KL900's lower lids.

"I'm sorry," he said, quietly enough that their conversation remained private despite the few other patients around them. "We did all we could, but it's impossible to reactivate her."

"No," whispered the EM400, shock slackening his features.

The KL900 doubled over in striking similarity to pain, and didn't say a word. She hadn't spoken since the beginning but her sorrow was louder than anything else in the room, and in that moment Markus knew exactly what she was feeling. He'd felt the same thing not too long ago, and he wouldn't have wished it on anybody else.

"I'm sorry," repeated Markus. "You can come inside to see her, if you want."

But neither androids seemed capable of moving just yet. The EM400's gaze drifted down to his crouching friend and he softly repeated: "No."

"Elise," choked out the KL900. "Elise!"

Markus heard a soft sound behind him and suddenly Taylor was standing at his side. The nurse gently turned him away. "You can go, I'll handle this."

Markus nodded absent-mindedly and stepped away, deciding that it was time to head back and return to his usual duties. Simon was still silently leaning over the PM700 and didn't look at him when he left, and the sound of sobbing followed Markus all the way back to his quarters. So much for a change of ideas. Not only was he still upset by Leo's earlier behaviour, but he'd failed to save the PM700 even when they'd been three working at it.He couldn't help but remember all the other deaths he hadn't been able to prevent during the revolution, and all the deaths he still couldn't do anything about even now. The bodies that had fallen all around him every time they'd gathered in a place to show humans they wanted to claim their freedom, those they had found devoid of their skin in the recall centers, all the androids he'd helped set at the bottom of New Jericho's collective grave. ; he remembered every single one of them and they haunted him. Markus opened the door to his cabin and stepped inside, quietly shut it behind him, and then just stood there with closed eyes for a few minutes. He needed to pull himself together so that he would be efficient in his work.

Once he'd forced the clamoring within him to die down to a dull, constant buzzing, Markus opened his eyes again and started editing one of the files in his head about his demands for androidkind, this one concerning the creation of PSAs for humans regarding deviants. Connor had told them about an incident with his captain where his red LED had been interpreted as a danger in his workplace, and that was unacceptable. Humans needed to understand the signs of distress in deviants and how to react to it, or ignorance would just spur on more hatred and senseless acts of violence. Of course, Connor hadn't told them why his LED had gone red exactly, and he hadn't even been the one to initiate that conversation; Nines had been, with a not-so-subtle nudge in Connor's shoulder after telling Markus and Josh that Connor had something to say. All they knew was that it had been caused by an altercation between him and a detective working at the DPD called Gavin Reed. It had happened a while ago, but PSAs were hard to put in place when the matter was so recent and delicate and the President had yet to understand just how necessary and urgent it was to broadcast them, which was why they were still working on it. They were still working on a lot of things. It frustrated Markus to no end.

About ten minutes later, Josh tried to communicate with him. Markus deflected the attempt as soon as he determined that it was nothing important. North did the same mere seconds after, inquiring about his state of mind, but he turned her away just the same- only with a bit more tact so that she wouldn't get pissed. They didn't try again. Markus never received a word from Simon, but he figured that the PL600 had his own problems to deal with after what had just happened. Simon had seen so many die back in Jericho's hold, just like Josh and North, but he'd seen the most. Markus couldn't begin to imagine just how many there had been, how many dying androids Simon had had to sit by and reassure as they spoke their last words and frozen forever with their hand still in his. He could only speculate how tired Simon was to see it happened over and over again. Markus himself felt like he was at the end of his tether.

He'd gone through several of his demands, redacting and sometimes deleting the written files in their entirety to start over, and he'd been standing in the exact same spot for a few hours when he heard the familiar rap of Connor's knuckles against the door. He recognized it even before Connor's voice called out his name; it was decisive and precise in a way none of the other leaders' were. The one whose knock ressembled to Connor's the closest was Nines, but his was heavier and shorter. Josh's knock was slower and he only did it twice. Simon's was polite and a quick, light succession of three knocks. North had the loudest of them all and it was usually more of a pounding than a knocking that his poor door underwent in those moments. Had this been Josh, North, or Simon, he didn't think he would've wanted to see them now; but this was Connor. Connor, the android who knew more about him than anyone else did, who'd seen him at his most vulnerable several times, who'd understood Markus just needed a presence by his side while he grieved which didn't involve useless platitudes or any meaningful conversation. He briefly considered turning him away, but then decided that Connor was the only person he could accept to talk to in this moment.

"Come in," said Markus.

Connor entered the room with a purposeful step and as he closed the door behind him, he looked up at Markus with a touch of concern in his brown eyes. "Josh told me you'd retreated to your quarters and didn't want to talk to anyone. I thought I'd try my luck."

"You're lucky, then. Is there anything you wanted to tell me in particular?"

Connor took a step towards the covered canvas and tilted his head so discreetly it was nearly invisible, but Markus knew it meant he was figuring something out. "You weren't painting. Am I interrupting your work?"

"No," said Markus in a half-lie, not wanting Connor to think he had to leave now that he was already there. "I was about to finish anyway."

Connor turned back to him. "Why did you refuse to talk with Josh?"

"I was busy."

"He told me you tried to save an android, but it didn't work," stated Connor with disconcerting bluntness. "That must've put you in a dark mood."

Markus couldn't help the small smile that made his lips curl upwards, even if it felt humorless. "Why ask if you already knew?"

"I expected you to tell me yourself. I'm usually the closed off one out of the two of us," answered Connor.

"Well, sometimes roles switch," declared Markus as he went to sit on his bed and gestured for Connor to take the stool, which the latter did with a small delay. He seemed a bit... slower than he normally was, but Markus wasn't sure.

"In light of what happened, I want to talk to you about an idea I had to make up for our lack of efficiency, Nines and I. I didn't plan on speaking about it now, since I don't have anything concrete yet, but I'd like to recruit volunteers to make supplementary patrol rounds so that we can prevent this kind of thing from happening at all."

"It's a good idea," approved Markus with a nod, surprised that he hadn't had to broach this subject himself. "But Connor, why would you wait any longer to tell me about your idea?"

"I would've preferred to have some kind of outline to present to you first. This is only a half-formed project in its current state," admitted Connor. "I thought I'd tell you this now anyway."

"So that I wouldn't feel like we're not doing enough to stop those androids from dying?"

Connor gazed at him, and then quietly said: "Yes."

Markus lowered his head in his hands. He appreciated Connor's attempt at reassurance, and it really wasn't a bad idea, but he didn't feel like anything could comfort him at all. He could still hear the abrupt transition from static to silence echoing in his mind, and the light clicking of Simon's persistent hands shifting about in the PM700's body; and he couldn't _stop_ thinking about all the deaths, the androids' and Carl's, Leo's call from earlier.

"You're very stressed," stated Connor, and Markus let out a dry chuckle at that. His cynical retort died on his tongue when he looked up and met his friend's brown gaze, incisive yet harbouring the clear intent to listen and understand. "What's wrong?"

Markus shook his head tiredly. "It's like Josh told you. I couldn't save her, none of us could." Markus hesitated briefly, but then figured that Connor knew enough of his life that he could be privy to the other thing that had been nagging him since that morning. "I also got a call from Leo earlier. He tried to threaten me because Carl put me in his will, and he didn't like it."

Disapproval creased Connor's brow in a slight frown. "You don't get along well?"

"He hates me," Markus said, and he couldn't quite squash the bitterness in his voice. "He's hated me ever since Carl took me in. He says Carl wasn't a good parent to him and that I was some kind of replacement son as a result. He says I have no right pretending to be his son."

Connor sounded a tad confused. "But you're not pretending. Carl said it himself, he considers you as one."

"That doesn't matter to Leo."

There was a moment of silence, and then Connor said: "You shouldn't let it get to you. I was there, I witnessed how close you and Carl were. Whatever Leo's opinion is on the matter has little importance."

Markus looked at his friend's serious expression and found that he easily believed him. It wasn't like Leo's words had been enough to sway that certainty, but it certainly felt better to have a third person's point of view on the situation. "I don't doubt that Carl loved me like a son, I just wish Leo would understand that I'm not just an android that replaced him."

Connor studied him, his brown eyes intensely analytical as always. "Has he always been this resentful?"

"Yes."

"Did he love Carl?"

Markus took a moment to consider the question. He's always ever known Leo to be abrasive and manipulative, always asking for more from Carl and never having anything to show for it, hateful when he didn't get what he want, aggressive whenever he caught sight of Markus. He'd never seen any outward signs of love from Leo to Carl, but Carl had definitely loved Leo, and Leo had cared enough to realize the error in part of his ways and try to change them by going to rehab. He'd been there with Carl until the end when Markus hadn't been.

"I think so, yes," he slowly answered.

"Then it's likely you can't try to act now," concluded Connor. "Grief only amplifies other negative emotions, especially hate. A grieving individual will shift the blame on anyone as long as they can't get over their sorrow, and any hate that already existed prior will likely be cemented by a feeling of injustice. There's a high probability that you'll only be able to change his way of thinking once he's done mourning your father's death, if you ever change it at all."

Markus was surprised to hear Connor propose such a just analysis of Leo's feelings knowing how much he struggled with his own, but then he recognized the clinical tone his friend was using and remembered that Connor had been created to manipulate emotion. He forgot more often just how dangerous Connor was meant to be after spending so much time with him. His initial apprehension had started ebbing away when appreciation for the RK800 had begun to take its place; it was difficult to keep considering someone a threat when all Markus wanted them to be was a friend.

"You're right," he conceded. "I can't expect unreasonable things from him. He's never had a great tolerance towards me, and it's definitely not going to change now."

"How serious were the threats?" asked Connor concernedly, and Markus realized that the way he'd talked about those was probably much more worrying than actually was.

"They were vague," he told him. "There weren't any death threats, he didn't even mention any explicit terms of violence."

"He probably doesn't know himself how far he'd be willing to go if you remained Carl's heir," observed Connor. "It might've been more of an impulsive call than anything else."

"That would be his style," agreed Markus.

"At any rate, you should tell me if this happens again. Even if he is part of your family, we can't neglect his words." Connor was as serious as ever, and Markus could see in the way his shoulders were set and hear in the smooth steel of his voice that the one talking to him in that moment wasn't his friend, but the head security of New Jericho.

"I know," he said. "I'll tell you when I have to deal with him again. You'll probably have to accompany me to the notary, I don't imagine they'll come down here amongst androids to see to Carl's will with me."

"That won't be a problem," asserted Connor. "I haven't suffered any micro-stasis glitches since the last one."

"Good," simply said Markus.

Connor kept staring at him, and suddenly said: "You know that PM700 earlier wasn't your fault, don't you?"

Markus couldn't resist looking away. He had to take a moment to consider this. "Rationally speaking, I know it's the humans'. But deep inside it's hard not to think I could have prevented her death."

"You did all you could. So did Taylor and Simon."

"It doesn't make her death any easier to accept."

"I understand," Connor said with no hesitation. When Markus looked up, he met a pair of cognizant brown eyes. "I know what that's like. I know you blame yourself and I know no amount of words I can say will change your mind. It's too difficult to accept that something isn't our fault when guilt feels like our only sense of reason."

Markus just stared at him dumbly, taken aback by the amount of lucidity Connor was displaying. A part of him had figured that Connor just lived with his negative emotions without realizing how deceptive they could be, but now he understood that Connor was conscious of how they worked. Of course, emotional manipulation required that kind of knowledge so it made sense that Connor would be able to study his own. Then again, there was often a wide divide between studying and understanding; maybe he'd only mastered emotion in theory without truly comprehending it.

Connor continued talking when Markus didn't answer. "You know I feel guilt about the deviants I've attacked and the many I've killed, directly or not. And I know that you feel the same guilt. I recognize it."

His gaze was so intense it felt like it was boring a hole through Markus, and he suddenly felt exposed. He'd never outright told Connor about the memories that plagued him day in and day out, only hinted at it, and he'd thought he'd been hiding his own guilt well enough up until this very moment. Markus had never once suspected that Connor saw right through him, not this clearly, not this effortlessly. He could only stare back at his friend in silence.

"I've told you this before, but we're more alike than you'd think," said Connor, and at this point Markus wondered if his mind was being read. "We both constantly have abnormally high stress levels, we both have things we don't want to share. Your stress is due in great part to your role and your responsabilities, but I've seen the way you act sometimes. I can tell your secrets aren't that different from mine."

"I don't want to shed light on them," admitted Markus quietly. "It's like things in the dark."

"Yes," agreed Connor. "Things we don't want to let out even if they're tearing us up inside. It would be too difficult to deal with them once they're set free."

Markus nodded slowly and looked down at his hands. Connor was right, he was saying everything Markus had known for months, and yet Markus had tried to pry Connor's secrets out of him in the beginning like the hypocrite he was. Connor had never been as intrusive as him, even if he must've known Markus had issues too. It had taken too long for Markus to realize that he wasn't going about it in the best of ways, to finally stop and let Connor be so he could progress at his own pace. He'd been unfair to Connor, pushing him when he shouldn't have while Connor had let him have his privacy without question. Markus realized he'd never shared much with him, even if it had been more than what he'd shared with his other friends. On the other hand, Connor had allowed him some insight in his struggles with deviancy and broken code without ever asking anything in return. Markus knew about his guilt, they'd talked about it a few times even if it had often been a bit defensive on Connor's side. But Markus had never allowed Connor to know about his own guilt. He was only noticing now that their exchanges were more one-sided than he'd imagined them to be, and after everything he'd asked Connor to do it was only fair that he also talked.

Markus steeled himself, and then said: "I feel guilty too."

Connor silently watched him. He just waited for him to say more.

"Too many androids died under my command," continued Markus. "Simon shut down because I was unable to save him. Others were shot by law enforcement when we went to break into the CyberLife stores and during the Freedom March, and they were permanently deactivated as a result. Not everyone survived the peaceful demonstration at the recall centers. I may have lead our people to freedom, but I also lead many of them to their death. I couldn't prevent androids from being definitively shut down in the centers, because I arrived too late. And even you, I-"

Silence fell over them when Markus stopped himself, but when he risked a glance towards Connor's face, he didn't see any judgement there. Connor simply said: "You expected me to die on my mission."

"It was suicide," quietly said Markus, in an echo to the words he'd spoken in the church. He felt ashamed of himself, but he knew it had been necessary. He wouldn't have let Connor go if he hadn't believed in him at all.

"It was my choice, and as it turned out that unlikely event wasn't so unlikely after all," answered Connor evenly. He wasn't smiling, but there was a light to his brown eyes that reassured Markus. He knew in that moment that Connor had been aware of this for some time, and that he didn't resent Markus for sending him on that mission with next to no hope of seeing him come back from it alive.

"Thank rA9 you made it so," said Markus, suddenly feeling steadier than he had all day.

Connor's expression shifted in diametrical opposites with Markus' mood, and now it was his turn to seem uneasy, which generally translated into an unnatural stillness and a shuttered expression. "There's something I want you to know, Markus. About my mission."

"What is it?" asked Markus, curiosity piqued but not letting too much of it filter through, lest he would seem inappropriately eager to know whatever it was that was making Connor uncomfortable.

"You know Hank was there in the Tower, with Sixty."

"Yes," acquiesced Markus. Hank had mentioned it the most, but it wasn't like Markus talked a lot with the lieutenant and Connor himself had remained very vague about what had happened. All Markus knew was that Sixty had tried to stop Connor and their confrontation had ended with Hank shooting Sixty in the head.

"Sixty was threatening to kill Hank if I converted the AP700s, so I didn't at first. I backed off." Connor paused, and dropped his gaze to the ground. He adjusted his sleeves, and then reverted to being completely immobile. "I'm aware I acted irrationnally, that even if I'd cooperated with Sixty, CyberLife would've gotten rid of me and I would've died. But in that moment Hank was all I had, and I couldn't let him die. So I complied. And if Hank hadn't gone for Sixty's gun, I wouldn't have had an opening, and I could've failed the mission. The revolution would have failed, and you would've gotten killed."

Markus gazed at him in silence. Then Connor lifted his head and resolutely said in a blank voice: "I was ready to betray you to save Hank. I'm sorry."

Markus crossed his arms on his chest and pondered on this revelation for a little while, then asked: "Why did you tell me this?"

Connor's neutral expression didn't much falter, but his voice sounded a bit perplexed when he repeated: "Why?"

"Yes, why. You didn't have to. You could've kept it to yourself."

"Because I told Josh, and Josh said it would be for the best if I told you too." Connor looked away, his voice suddenly quiet. "And I don't want to keep this from you. You deserve to know to make your own idea of how reliable I am."

"And what did Josh say when you told him?"

Connor's brow furrowed slightly, like he didn't follow Markus' line of questioning. "He said that it was normal that I panicked and made that choice right after deviating, because Hank was the only one I cared for."

"And what do you think of that?"

"It doesn't matter what I think."

Markus gave him a disapproving look. "Yes, it does. Tell me."

Connor sounded like he didn't know what to do with himself. "I'm not sure. It sounds like excuses when I say it."

"Not to me," said Markus. "Josh has a point. Of all the deviants I knew in the moment we started the peaceful demonstration, you were the most recent. You barely had the time to understand yourself, we didn't talk about your emotions, and you immediately went on a mission that could've gotten you definitively killed. I think that would be enough to rattle anyone, and then you saw the only person you liked held at gunpoint. Of course you couldn't think straight, Connor. And even if you had been, you would've chosen Hank over thousands of people you didn't know anyway."

Connor's gaze had drifted back to the ground again while Markus had been talking, and he didn't seem ready to accept everything that was being said. Markus shifted on the bed to sit a bit closer to his friend and added: "Look, if I'd had to choose between saving Carl's life and saving a faceless crowd, I'd have wavered too. You didn't betray us, all right? You were lost, you hesitated, and I can't hold that against you. The fact is that in the end, you saved all of us even when we didn't believe you'd make it there."

Connor's eyes shifted halfway up, hesitated, and then all the way to Markus' face. He softly asked: "So then where does that leave me? Do you still trust me even after that? After everything I did?"

"Why would I not? If anything, I'm infinitely grateful for what you did. That was no easy feat, Connor, and I'm fully conscious of that. The fact that you pulled it off so well only goes to show that you're worthy of trust."

It must have been the wrong thing to say, because Connor's whole frame seemed to tense up when Markus didn't think it could have any more. Before he could ask about this reaction, Connor quietly said: "So you don't consider this a betrayal."

"Not at all."

"And if I say I'm sorry for what I did?"

"You're completely forgiven," immediately answered Markus. "Though I don't see why you'd need to apologize for saving our lives." Then he joked: "Unless you're apologizing to yourself, and in that case I understand, because we can be very annoying."

Connor silently gazed at him, and then allowed a very discreet quirk to appear on his lips. His tone of voice sounded relieved when he said: "Thank you."

Markus didn't know exactly how to best answer to Connor's thanks, because he thought he'd just been stating the truth. In the end, he went with a light: "So you do find us annoying!"

A brief pause, and then Connor's eyes widened in surprise and he hastily protested: "No, why would you-"

"I didn't hear you disagreeing with me," Markus teased.

"Oh," said Connor upon realizing that Markus' words were just a way to lighten the atmosphere, and his body relaxed into an easier stance.

"It's good that you told me this," Markus said confidently. "You feel better now that you don't have to keep that secret to yourself, right?"

Connor didn't answer right away, but he nodded. "Yes, I do. What about you?"

Markus was taken aback by the sudden reversal, and he asked: "Me?"

"Yes. Talking about your guilt. Did it help?" Connor's features were more open and encouraging now.

Markus figured it was only fair that he admitted to the same thing his friend had, and he nodded too. "It did. It feels like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders."

There was a beat of silence. And then Connor gave him a very small, honest smile. "Good."

It surprised Markus because he'd never seen Connor do more than his tiny curl of the lips before. It was a tight-lipped smile, tense and uneasy, but a genuine one nonetheless. One that looked good on him. One Markus felt lucky to witness. And in the corner of his HUD, he saw a notification appear.

CONNOR^  
**COMPANION**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 20/09/2019 -
> 
> Connor: *very awkwardly kinda sorta smiles*  
> Markus: It's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen in my life
> 
> Hey pumpkin! Life is kicking my ass so hard and I hate it! Great!  
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed some more tormenting of Markus. Also, bro moment!
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Keats is such a gentle soul <3  
> \- Leo is an asshat. Is he redeemable? Hmmmm... Probably? But not very easily. Maybe more easily than Reed. What do you think?  
> \- Carl made Markus his rightful heir as well, woot! Now, what does that entail for Markus? Only good things I'm sure... If only Leo could be a bit more open-minded.  
> \- Connor and Nines are doing their absolute best to make NJ a safe place, but they can't be everywhere at once. Those voluntary patrol groups sound like a good idea.  
> \- Look at that, my boys having yet another a heart to heart. They're so much help to each other!  
> \- And they're finally companions in Markus' relationship status! It took some time because of Connor's natural struggle with things such as friendships, and Markus trying to maintain a certain level of caution with the one who was once a deviant hunter, but they're managing it!  
> \- OH LORD HE SMILED (kinda- I mean it's not a grin- Look, it's a start)
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!
> 
> _Fanart of[Connor in a flower crown](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/190044439298/velhomagolor-harju-on-twitter) by Magolor!_


	47. Solid State of H2O

Connor knew it wasn't a good thing that he was doing. He also knew he really had to stop doing things that weren't good, because it would upset everyone he'd gotten close to over the last months. However, doing those things were paradoxically the only way he could feel better. It was a bad idea to spend his nights disconnected from his charging stall and he didn't have the excuse of a potential override anymore for doing this, but allowing his battery levels to slowly drop was the only way he'd found of alleviating the strange strain in his wires. Just like last time, it would only disappear when he voluntarily inflicted some kind of pressure on his systems. At first he'd let the levels hover around 50%, because it was enough and he didn't want to be too slow to react accordingly while patrolling for New Jericho. But then it hadn't been enough anymore and he'd felt the need to let them dip further down, reaching 40% in the following week.

This was a good alternative compared to the way he'd last overworked his systems: this time, they had no risk of failing from lack of cooldown time. He could still function correctly even in low-power mode since it didn't worsen his glitches, nor did it cause any unwelcome forced bouts of stasis, and it allowed him to alleviate the tension in his circuits that he didn't know how to handle otherwise. Connor was fully aware that Markus would be mad at him if he knew, but he'd be careful this time. Besides, this wasn't putting anyone in danger, not even himself, because he was paying very close attention to his limits this time. He didn't need to function at full capacity now that he was only assigned to cold cases, and there were only two times a day when he potentially needed a burst of energy during his patrols. 40% was more than enough.

And then it still wasn't enough. The tension came back after one more week like this, and so he cautiously let the percentage drop lower, and lower, all the while making sure that it remained nearly unnoticeable. He blinked less often, but made sure he kept breathing at the same regular pace. He couldn't deactivate his synthetic skin, even if it would've been one of the easiest ways to prevent his power from getting drained by perfunctory functions, so instead he lowered the sensitivity of his pressure sensors and stopped his forensics lab from running at all times. Now that he wasn't out and about solving murder cases on site, a lot of his protols were useless and he could do without. All he had to do was shut down anything for which he had no use anymore that wouldn't cause an obvious change to the outside eye. It wasn't difficult to do so and he didn't mind much; the only truly demoralizing aspect of his new position was that he felt nothing like the investigative unit he was supposed to be. He missed being out on the field, and most of all he missed being Hank's partner, his words of congratulations, their banter in the car, how well they functioned as a team. Connor decided to make up for this by solving any dropped case he could get his hands on. If he couldn't be what he'd been intended to be, he could at least come close to it, and if he worked hard enough without glitching then Hank and Captain Fowler were bound to notice how efficient he still was. Maybe then they'd let him back on the field. Maybe then he wouldn't have to feel relegated to the bottom of the DPD anymore.

He thought Sixty had noticed what he'd done to himself when the other joined him in the break room that day with a decisive gait that betrayed a clear intention to talk, so Connor steeled himself for an onslaught of acerbic remarks. The RK800 stopped at his side, too close, Sixty's gray waistcoat nearly touching Connor's dark jacket, and his voice held a smirk when he spoke.

"Say, Connor. I have a question for you."

Without looking at him, Connor warily said: "What do you want?"

"What would you, a defective RK800, choose to do if you were constantly surrounded by a threat you didn't know how to avoid?"

Connor's head swivelled sharply and he asked in a low voice: "What are you talking about?"

There was something slightly off about the grin plastered on Sixty's face. "Let's make it simpler: how would you handle the possibility of such a threat suddenly attacking you out of nowhere?"

For a moment, Connor struggled to choose between telling Sixty off and asking him what he was even going on about. In the end, he settled for: "What are you planning?"

Sixty kept smiling. "Just answer the question, Connor."

"Why should I?" asked Connor. "I don't want to talk to you, Sixty."

"Suit yourself," answered Sixty with a nonchalant wave of his hand, and he pushed himself away from the table to leave. Connor was left standing alone in the middle of the break room, apprehension slowly rising inside of him. Sixty had let him off too easily.

That same evening during his patrol, Connor stumbled. He didn't usually stumble. He quickly adjusted his power savings so that it wouldn't happen again and realized that being apprehensive about his double's words all day had siphoned more of his energy than he'd thought dealing with his feelings could. Connor decided he'd have to charge a bit longer tonight. He debated whether he should tell Nines about Sixty's ominous line of questioning since things were still a bit stilted between them, but then decided it would be better if the two of them knew that the other RK800 was behaving differently than usual. Nines' reaction sounded worried when Connor informed him of this new development, but he surprisingly held back on asking if Connor was okay. 

Instead, he asked: "Are you still mad at me?"

Conno felt himself waver. There was a sad tinge to Nines' blue eyes that he couldn't ignore, even if the RK900 wasn't one to use facial expressions that could purposely guilt others into being more lenient with him, unlike Connor. Nines made a more honest show of his emotions, even if he seemed like the stoic kind of individual at first glance.

"I'm not... mad." Connor crossed his arms across his chest, shoulders hunched. "I just don't like that you're willing to tell others about our private conversations, no matter your intentions."

"I know. I'm sorry," Nines earnestly apologized.

"But you'd do it again."

"...I would, if it was to help you get better."

Connor looked down at the ground. He didn't want to be upset with Nines forever, and the truth was that he missed their usual communications at the workplace. He missed Nines' messages in the background of his mind, he missed having someone to distract him from his darker thoughts at any time of the day, and really, he just missed Nines' presence. He'd never realized until now just how much he liked the RK900. It felt strange to know.

"I do want to talk to you the way we did before," Connor ended up saying. "But I don't know how to make sure you won't repeat anything to the others."

"I can't guarantee it won't happen again, but I'd never tell them anything behind your back," Nines promised. "You'd always know."

And Connor knew he could believe that. It would never have come to his mind to doubt Nines' honesty, because that was the way Nines had always been with him. He hadn't ever lied to him, he'd kept his secrets as long as he'd been able to, he'd felt guilty when he'd reached that limit. Connor knew it was unfair to expect such confidentiality from Nines just because he had had the misfortune of knowing what had happened to him in the pleasure district. He also knew Nines was still struggling with the Traci's memory being part of his own, in the way Nines looked at him sometimes, and in the way he constantly strived to help him deal with what had happened. Nines watched out for Connor, and Connor wanted to do the same for Nines. The least he could do was to stop holding this useless grudge when the RK900's actions had helped him get better in the end.

"Okay," said Connor. "I'm letting it go."

Nines' smile could have lit up ten rooms.

 

What Connor couldn't let go was the precise hold he had on his battery levels and work performance. The most ironic part in this situation was that Captain Fowler of all people was the one to tell him to stop working so hard. Connor was alone at his desk at 9:42 p.m. in the middle of reconstructing a crime based on the few documents he had on hand when the door to the captain's office opened, clicked shut and was locked with a jingle of the man's keys. Then Captain Fowler walked down the stairs and stopped in front of his desk.

"Your day ended nearly two hours ago, Connor. What are you still doing here?"

Connor paused his reconstruction and looked up. "I'm nearly done solving this case, Captain. I'll leave soon."

The captain stared at him for a moment, and then said: "From what I gathered, those glitches last time started happening because you overworked yourself. Don't make the same mistake again."

Captain Fowler then turned heel without waiting for an answer and left the building. Connor perplexively stared at the now empty hall. That had sounded more like a concern than a threat, and on top of that the captain didn't usually talk to him outside of when he was summoned to his office. Connor hadn't thought the man had noticed that he was working in late these days since Captain Fowler never seemed to notice much of what he was doing, but he'd been proved wrong. Maybe the captain was right. He was correctly spending his six hours in standby, but his work was encroaching on the time he used to rest a bit before going on patrol. Even so, Markus had never said anything about how Connor was supposed to spend his free time, and he'd never said he wasn't allowed to prolong his work time as long as he respected his six hours at night. Connor felt better working solving as many cold cases as he could, anyway.

Connor's construction program was still acting up during standby and he hadn't found a way to stop it. It wasn't just memories that woke him in the night anymore, but also fake scenarios that somehow caused him even more distress than the memories did even if Connor knew they hadn't happened. They were simulations of the worst possible outcomes of situations he'd been in, and sometimes they didn't have any foundations in reality at all. Most of them involved Connor dying. The worst were those where the one who died was Hank. There was no denying it: they were _terrifying_. Connor couldn't have used any other term to describe them. It seriously made him consider disobeying Markus' order like he had last time just so he wouldn't have to go through those images and sounds and feelings because of standby mode, or the least possible, but reason always took over the rest and he didn't try to betray Markus' trust again. Connor did think of getting checked out again to confirm that this was yet another kind of glitch, but decided against it when he felt a crawling sensation in his nape upon simply remembering the Tower looming over his head. He talked about it with Josh instead, because he knew he wouldn't be forgiven so easily if he started keeping new problems to himself. Josh called them nightmares, which was ridiculous, since nightmares were caused in humans by the brain which androids didn't have. Connor remained doubtful and chose to believe it was a glitch which he just had to withstand, just like he withstood the rest, hoping it would get better.

 

Snows had been coming and going for months but the next storm came around in the midst of March. It was a weather anomaly that appeared in the middle of the thawing period, and by all accounts, it shouldn't have happened. There'd been a few since November, but Connor had somehow never been outside in those moments, which was why Connor only understood that deviancy would make snow falls difficult to handle for him when he found himself caught up in this one completely by surprise. The storm just appeared out of nowhere, without the warning slow fall of snowflakes that usually preceded them, and it was in the middle of his patrol that Connor was thrust into the frantic swirl of white spots all around him. He thought he felt his visual input flicker, and Connor panicked. He sent a message to Hank for help without a second thought and bolted straight for New Jericho, because if he was going to be shut down by the killswitch, he wanted to do it somewhere he was sure to be found again. As Connor ran, he felt the cold sensation spreading through his body and slowly freezing his biocomponents one by one, and he started dragging his feet, and his legs weren't cooperating quite right. She still hadn't taken over, he was still moving. Violent winds buffeted his body and his visual input was taken over by the sheets of snow that fell over him just like they had in the Zen Garden, but he wasn't in the Zen Garden, he was in New Jericho, there was the banner, and Amanda wasn't there, only androids staring at him with strange eyes, and- no frozen lake, just the Butterfly Garden- but it wasn't the Zen Garden so there would be no exit if he ended up trapped here- his jacket was flapping in the wind just like back then- the snow was all over his clothes- he could feel his legs gradually stiffening- his feet were rooted to the spot- he couldn't move-

_White snow surrounds him._  
_White snow surrounds him._  
_White snow surrounds him._  
_He's going to **fail**._

Suddenly his knees hit a hard surface and he snapped out of the glitch. His legs had given out beneath him like they would have back in the Zen Garden if he'd given himself over to Amanda. There was snow everywhere, seeping into the fabric of his jeans, dusting all over his clothes, his hands, and he knew he wouldn't be able to get rid of it all. Connor wrapped his arms around himself and hunched up in an effort to hide, because maybe if he got close enough to the ground no one would notice him acting like this. It was wishful thinking, he knew, but he couldn't get back to his feet because if he did try, he was afraid to find that he couldn't move. He didn't want to know that he was trapped. Connor noticed he'd missed a call from Hank during the glitch, so he quickly sent him another message to reassure him in case his friend thought he'd been deactivated. The call came fast and he picked up.

"Connor? Connor, you all right?"

"I'm fine, Hank," he answered in his mind, feeling unsteady and wondering if Hank could hear it in his projected voice. He tried to curl in on himself even more and felt more of the sludge wet his clothes.

"What's going on?"

"...I'm not sure. Not an override. I thought it was, but it's not. There's snow. A lot. It's all around me. There's a lot of snow. A lot."

A faint expletive on the other side of the line, and then: "Where are you? Are you alone?"

"New Jericho. Yes."

"Okay, can you tell one of the others? Do that LED thing you do so you can ask for help."

Oh. Right, he could do that. But Nines was still on patrol, and the leaders had to be busy.

"I don't want to disturb them for this."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," growled Hank. "What, you want _me_ to do it for you? Get your thumb out of your ass and just ask them!"

"Yes. Okay. I will."

"Right now, Connor!" Hank sounded absolutely incensed, in a very frustrated kind of way.

"Right now," agreed Connor, noting that his reactions weren't as quick and not nearly as efficient as they normally were. The sight and feeling of the snow all around him were preventing him from thinking straight. There were only two of his android friends that had seen him go through a stress-induced glitch before, and Josh wasn't one of them. Nines wasn't anywhere near the walls of New Jericho. This left Markus as the most viable option.

< _RK800: I glitched next to the Butterfly Garden._ >  
< _RK800: Eastern side._ >

Markus' reply was instant. 

< _RK200: I'm coming._ >

"Done," he told Hank. "Markus is on his way."

"Good. You gonna be all right? Where's your stress at?"

"High, but nothing I can't handle for now." The humidity kept spreading along his knees and shins, and the more Connor gazed at the snow, the more he realized that he hated it. He hated snow and everything it meant to him, even if it was just cristallized water. Bonded atoms. The solid state of H2O. To him, it meant so much more and so much worse: gleaming metal, betrayal, loss of control, artificial deviancy, learning that he was nothing but a puppet on remote-controlled strings even when he thought he was free. Fear. Too much fear, all the time, and guilt, constant and terrible guilt; but mostly fear.

"Ah- _Shit._ Look, I've got to hang up now, but send me a message when Markus gets there. Deal?"

"Deal," Connor answered unthinkingly.

"And don't wait around to send it- _Fuck's sake, yes, I'm coming!_ And if I'm not told in the next three minutes that he's joined you, I'm telling Nines to come get you."

"Yes." Connor wanted to get out of the snow, wanted nothing more to rise to his feet and retreat to his dry quarters, but he felt compelled to remain immobile and kneeling right there on the white ground. Too much snow. Fear.

"Oh for- _yes, five fucking seconds!_ Right, hanging up now. Three minutes, Connor," Hank reminded him one last time, and then the line went dead. Connor was alone again. Trapped. No one had known back then that it wasn't him that had pulled out the gun, and he'd been alone in his own programming, unable to speak out, unable to warn them.

He _hated_ snow. He didn't know why it had taken him this long to figure out.

He was scared.

He was so _scared_.

"Connor?"

His head snapped up to face the source of the soft voice ahead of him and his gaze met a familiar pair of mismatched eyes. Markus' brow was drawn up in concern and he was approaching cautiously, like one would a wounded animal- or an RK800 whose stress levels were much too high. Connor wanted to laugh. All that escaped his throat was a low, twisted sound. He wasn't alone anymore, and he sent Hank the message to tell him so, but he was still afraid.

Markus crouched down at his level. His hand briefly reached out, but then retreated just as fast, and he just asked: "What's wrong?"

"The snow," managed Connor, surprised at how difficult it was to speak out loud. "Amanda. I tried to shoot you."

His friend's eyes widened in understanding and then he looked around. There were a few stragglers there, Connor belatedly realized. They'd seen him like this. Markus waved them away before turning back to him. "Do you need help getting up? Is it okay if I touch you?"

"I can get up by myself," answered Connor automatically, but he didn't. The absurd fear that he wouldn't be able to do so was still weighing at the back of his mind. Connor stayed right where he was.

Markus waited for a bit, and then cautiously put his hand out. "Here, hold on."

Connor complied. Their hands latched together and Markus straightened, pulling him up easily. Connor was relieved when he felt his own legs unfold smoothly and push him back up in a standing position. He hadn't frozen. He was okay.

"I want you to come with me," Markus said. "We'll talk inside my quarters."

"Okay," Connor quietly agreed, and he fell in line with Markus when he started walking. He kept his eyes down the whole way there, which admittedly wasn't very far, and felt the other's gaze on him all the while. He only slightly relaxed when they stepped out of the snow inside the cabin. Markus guided him to the stool with a hand on his shoulder, and then they were both sitting face-to-face.

"Are they going down?" Markus asked, and Connor understood he was talking about his stress levels.

"No." And then he added, knowing what Markus' next question would be: "81%."

"Can you use your coin?"

Connor couldn't, in fact, calibrate with any of the thin metal objects he had on him. His components still felt half-frozen and completely slowed down. His hands were twitching lazily, almost imperceptibly, but it was already too much. "No. I'll drop it."

"...Okay." Markus hesitated, but only for a moment, and then his gaze grew firmer. "Is your stress climbing?"

"Yes," cautiously answered Connor, not liking the expression on his face one bit.

"We should interface."

"No."

"Connor, I've helped a lot of androids this way. Trust me, they've all told me they felt much better afterwards." Despite his insistence, Markus hadn't moved a single inch forward. Connor knew he had to be thinking of what had happened last time he'd reached out to interface with him.

"I don't doubt it," Connor answered. He didn't say anything else.

Markus gazed at him patiently like he was studying a puzzle, and then he gently said: "I'm aware you don't like it when I'm preoccupied about you, but your refusal to interface isn't healthy and I think we really need to find a solution for it. I've been thinking about this a lot to try and understand what could possibly have made you so uncomfortable with it. Are you afraid you'll feel me die like you did for Simon?"

Connor stared back. That was part of the reason, and he hadn't thought Markus would try so hard to understand what was essentially just one of Connor's many issues. He hadn't thought Markus would be so determined to 'solve' him, and Connor wasn't sure there even was a way of doing that. He didn't like that Markus was wasting his time trying to fix something that Connor knew couldn't be, but there was a small, fickle part of him that was happy that his friend was willing to spare him this much attention. It felt like he mattered. Connor hated that this feeling was all it took for him to forget he wasn't worthy of such attention. Yes, he mattered to Markus and Markus mattered to him, but he had to be careful not take up too much of the leader's time and focus which New Jericho and androidkind relied on.

In the end, he answered: "I just don't want to interface." He hoped Markus would leave it at that, the way he had all the other times.

But for some unknown reason, Markus continued his gentle coaxing this time. "We're safe here, you know. Neither of us is going to die while we interface. Nothing bad will happen to me or to you."

"How would you know?" retorted Connor flatly. 

"I know," simply said Markus with utmost certainty. "Try, Connor."

"I told you I didn't want to do it."

"Where are your levels at?" suddenly asked Markus.

Connor didn't want to answer, but he did anyway. "87%."

"Because of our discussion?"

"I'm not sure."

Markus had that concerned look on his face again. "You see, if it's not because of what we're talking about, then it means that you can't stop your stress from rising by yourself. If it _is_ because of our subject of conversation, then we need to change the fact that interfacing is a source of stress for you. We have to do something about it either way."

"Why can't you just leave it alone?" snapped Connor, the irritation that had only been pawing at the back of his throat suddenly clawing its way past his lips. "Why is it such a big deal whether or not I interface? You keep saying it's unhealthy, but I know there are other androids who've been living just fine despite being averse to touch! Why do you insist that it's different for me?"

Markus' eyes had widened in surprise at his sudden ouburst, and silence followed. His voice was frustratingly calm when he spoke again. "Because, Connor, you're _not_ averse to touch, not in the same way. There are only very, very few androids Josh has met who are afraid of interfacing, and all of them have ended up accepting it at one point as a calming measure. You're the only one I know who's gone this long without interfacing after deviating." Markus loosely clasped his hands in his lap and leaned slightly closer. "Connor, you're the only one with problems in regards to deviancy who's been actively refusing help to deal with them. You're not the first to struggle with emotions, nor will you be the last, but the others have all received help so they could understand better. You won't."

"Not if interfacing is the only way," Connor said curtly.

"Won't you try at least once?" asked Markus beseechingly. "I promise, this will just be for lowering your stress. It won't be like the first time we interfaced, there's nothing at stake and you won't risk anything at all."

Connor's lips tightened into a thin line and he wordlessly stared at Markus' hands. He knew that the unease that gripped him at their sight was irrational, and that Markus only wanted to help, but nowhere in him did he find the will to reach out. He understood why other androids did it. He wished he could feel that will without being overwhelmed by fear.

"You're smart, Connor. You know how important interfacing is to us," continued Markus in that soft tone. "You know you can't avoid it forever."

Connor let out a dry chuckle despite himself. "Or what? I'll become even more of a paria?"

Markus was silent for a short while, as if that had taken him aback and he needed to find an argument. "You could be less of one if you allowed yourself to live here with us."

Connor didn't believe that would change anything. He didn't answer.

Markus waited for a bit, and then cautiously turned one of his hands up. "This has got nothing to do with you being a paria or not. I just want you to understand that interfacing isn't something as harmful as you've experienced it to be, and I want to help you reach that conclusion. Don't you want to try, at least? It might help get rid of that apprehension if we do it progressively."

Connor kept staring at Markus' hand. It was tempting to believe him, to just trust Markus with handling his problems, but trust was something Connor couldn't spare much of. He liked Markus, he knew that of himself; but to rely on him for something this dangerous, to risk Markus seeing Connor vulnerable again with the errors in his ventilation systems and the video files in his memory threatening to play out at any moment, that was something Connor didn't want. He hated that Markus had seen him off-center so many time before, unable to handle his own emotions when they went haywire, giving him more reason to worry until Markus' worry could only go so far and would be replaced by something much, much worse. No, Connor wasn't ready to face that disappointment all over again. 

"I can't," he quietly said.

"You _can_ ," Markus insisted. "And I'll help you with it. I don't know what exactly you keep telling yourself every time I tell you that I'm concerned for you, but I do know the gist of it. Connor, I only want what's good for you. That's what friends do, they support and help each other. You've done that for me many times, with Carl, with Washington, with my guilt. You deserve as much."

Connor looked at him. Yes, he'd helped Markus before, and he was proud of it. He was proud that he'd managed to ease Markus' mind by being there for him, because Markus needed support when he was already carrying the weight of androidkind on his shoulders, and Connor didn't think anyone else had seen the deviant leader in a state as vulnerable as he had. Connor was glad that he could be useful to Markus in this way. In fact, it meant something more to him than what being useful usually implied: this was more important, more intimate, a feeling he kept close inside because it felt somehow precious. It was the same kind of feeling he'd had when he'd helped Hank to the couch and stayed with him all night. Connor was useful to them, but also... maybe, important. He wasn't sure, it was the first time he considered himself this way. His model had been important to CyberLife, his role; but not his person. Not like this. Part of him wondered if he was making up these feelings, and the other part told him that maybe this was what being a friend meant. Friendship was still an elusive concept to him even after months of freedom.

Connor had helped Markus, but he didn't understand why Markus was doing so much for him in return. It was normal for Markus to receive support, he was New Jericho's most important individual and needed as many resources possible to fight on, and as such Connor was more than willing to give Markus everything he could offer. Connor, on the other hand, was not someone who had to fulfill a particularly difficult role and he didn't think he needed as much attention as his friends were giving him, least of all Markus'. They undeniably cared for each other, but that Markus' friendship would extend this far was unthinkable- had been unthinkable. Markus had better things to do than spend so many hours with him just to talk about Connor's problems when he had so many himself. For a long time Connor had thought Markus had some kind of ulterior motive for doing this, that this offer of mutual appreciation had a higher purpose, that his worry meant Connor needed to do better. But now Connor was beginning to think- and maybe even hope- that Markus' worry wasn't like Amanda's, that it wouldn't rust and flake away to reveal bitter disappointment. That maybe Markus himself wasn't like Amanda. That maybe... Markus really did just want to help, as a friend, without expecting anything in return like good performances and successful missions. That he was willing to give him support that didn't come with the condition of Connor being the best there was.

Markus' mismatched eyes patiently gazed at him while Connor tried to make sense of it all, waiting, unexpecting, as if he would be fine with whatever decision Connor chose to take in the end. Connor knew Markus was right, he couldn't avoid interfacing all his life. It was one of androids' primary functions and now that they were deviants, it was even more important that they were able to communicate this way. Markus was suggesting to help him get over his aversion, he knew how difficult it was for Connor, and it was likely no one else would be as understanding as he was aside from Nines. Connor had to at least try. 

He finally reached for the upturned hand and Markus' gaze lowered to watch their hands come closer. Then Connor stopped, their fingers separated by several inches. He couldn't bring himself to reach any further, the mere thought of their white chassis coming into contact was unbearable to his buzzing mind. Markus waited for Connor's synthetic skin to melt away for a few seconds, and then looked up when it didn't. Connor saw the movement, but didn't dare face the other's gaze. He didn't want to see what Markus thought of him in this moment. He knew he was being ridiculous, weak-willed, unable to even complete the simple task of touching another person's hand.

"It's all right, Connor. I'm not going to die," Markus calmly told him. His warm tone laid over Connor's loud and jagged thoughts like a blanket, and for a moment Connor wanted to let his mind be muffled by it.

Then he clenched his jaw. It wasn't all right, and Markus' soothing words weren't enough to make him forget that he was failing even this simple attempt. He nodded silently anyway, still unable to meet the other's eyes and tried to push further. He knew that Markus was telling the truth, that neither of them would experience that awful emptiness if they interfaced here in the leader's safe quarters, but then his fingers stopped just short of Markus' and he swore under his breath. His hands were giving full shudders now. He couldn't. He couldn't.

He _couldn't_.

"Okay, Connor. It's all right if we stop."

But he _had to_. Connor shook his head in frustration and tried to force his hand to come closer to Markus', but then his friend retrieved his hand and Connor was left reaching for an empty spot.

"It's fine, don't push yourself," said Markus with a benevolent voice. "Your hands are shaking and we both know that's a sign you're almost at your limit."

"I can't do it," Connor stated quietly, and he brought his trembling hand back to his lap, tightly grasping it with the other so that it would stop shaking. It didn't. He felt utterly defeated.

"You couldn't do it _this time_ ," Markus rectified. "That doesn't mean you can't do it at all. You did great, Connor. I didn't expect you to actually accept to try today, but you did, and that's good. It's okay to fail before you succeed. I'm certain you'll get there eventually, and you can be proud of yourself for attempting it today."

The praise sent a pleasing wave of _something_ through Connor's circuits and he realized he was grateful for his friend's encouragement. He should have felt ashamed. Instead, looking into Markus' clear and faithful eyes, he suddenly felt like his friend was saying the truth. He'd tried to interface, and it was more than he'd done in several months. He could be proud of himself for trying even if it hadn't been a success; Markus had just told him so. He could allow himself to think that this was a small victory.

"...Thank you," he said. His voice was thinner than he'd intended it to be, but at least his stress levels were slowly going down.

Markus smiled kindly. "Whenever you want to attempt interfacing again, you can come to me. We'll work this out together."

Connor nodded wordlessly, hands still clasped together in a worthless endeavour to prevent their shaking. Markus noticed this and carefully reached out, letting his fingertips lightly rest on Connor's trembling knuckles. His brow was set in a concerned frown.

"Connor, loosen your grip. You're hurting yourself."

He looked down at his own hands and saw that Markus was right. He hadn't realized it because the sensitivity of his pressure sensors was so low they were nearly turned off, but his chassis was caving in ever so slightly where his own fingers were closed around his hand and his synthetic skin was rippling like a distress signal. Connor quickly let go and watched the erratic twitches that travelled up and down the entirety of his upper extremities as his self-healing protocol kicked in to fix the light deformations in the white plastic. It wasn't enough for his systems to perceive it as even minor damage, but when he looked up, he saw that it had been enough to worry Markus. His friend's eyes were evidently disturbed.

"Do you often do this?" he asked quietly.

Connor shook his head. "No, not at all. I don't know why I... did this."

"You looked like you were going to break off your own fingers," Markus insisted. "And you didn't react to it at all. Like you were used to it."

"It wasn't intentional," Connor refuted. "I've never done this before. I don't intend to do it again. Markus, just think. What good would it do me if I damaged my own hands? I need them."

Markus stared at him with that remarkable lucidity in his mismatched eyes that Connor had grown to be weary of. Its appearance usually meant that Markus was onto him. "Did you even notice you were doing that?"

"I was lost in thought," Connor deflected.

"Please don't lie to me."

There was no actual plea in Markus' voice, but his voice was firm and judging from the look in his eyes, Connor had better not try to worm his way out of the conversation without telling him at least part of the truth. Besides, lying to Markus hadn't really gotten him anywhere before. All it had done was make more trouble for the leader by generating more of his concern for him, and Connor felt guilty that his actions had lead to Markus having to doubt everyone of his actions concerning his well-being. It wasn't like Markus' position allowed him time and energy to waste on making sure that Connor was holding up correctly.

"...My pressure sensors aren't functioning optimally right now," admitted Connor.

Markus' frown deepened. "Why?"

It took Connor a while to find an explanation that would be truthful without worrying his friend. "It helps me feel better."

Markus' expression grew confused. "What? You did it yourself? Wouldn't that be disorienting?"

"At first, but I got used to it very fast," Connor told him.

"It sounds dangerous. You could get hurt far more easily," said Markus disapprovingly. "You were about to damage yourself just now because of that. Can't you do anything else to feel better that doesn't involve putting yourself in harm's way?"

"Look, this hasn't happened before. I'm telling you, it's the first time I applied this much pressure to my hands without realizing it. I'll be more careful in the future."

But Markus wasn't having it. "Turn them back on, Connor. I know you well enough by now to know that this is another case of you hurting yourself and not thinking much of it. Do you even realize what you're doing to yourself?"

Connor dropped his gaze back to his hands. Was it really so wrong to lower the sensitivity of his pressure sensors like this? He hadn't thought it important, since it wasn't like he needed to be in his best shape when all he did all day was typing out reports with his hand flattened against the computer. And he could always ramp the sensitivity back up when he needed it if he encountered danger during his patrols.

Markus' voice was thoughtful when it slipped through his thoughts. "So you don't. You didn't even think that it was strange to do that at all, did you?"

Connor looked back up at his friend. "...It didn't disturb me."

"I figured." Markus leaned back and folded his arms across his chest. "Turn them back on. We'll find another way to make you feel better, but you can't just throw out your sense of pressure."

"I'm doing fine like this," insisted Connor.

"It's an order," Markus said. His voice was firm, but his eyes were weary. The contrast looked strange on his face and Connor wondered why it was there at all.

Still, it was an order. He dipped his head in compliance. "Yes, Markus."

He felt his control on his energy levels slide just a little bit out of his grasp when part of it flowed back into his pressure sense, but he now could feel the rubbing of his own hands against each other again. It felt like he'd just taken off a particularly thick pair of gloves, and then the same sensation travelled across the surface of his body as it started sensing the weight of his clothes against his synthetic skin and the push of the chair against his thighs. It felt just as disconcerting recovering his sense of pressure as it had been to lose it, and he knew he'd have to take a moment to get used to it again. He automatically reached into his breast pocket to get his coin and started to calibrate.

Markus watched the silver coin dance along the top of his fingers, and asked: "Is this some kind of ovestimulation problem? Did you have a glitch in your sense of touch or something that required you to lower your sensitivity to pressure?"

"No," answered Connor truthfully, but that was the extent of it.

Markus must have understood he didn't wish to expand on the subject, because he just asked: "Do you intend to do it again?"

Connor flicked the coin from one hand to the other. "I don't know."

Markus nodded as if he'd expected that answer. "Then I order you not to. You really need to stop messing around with your body, Connor."

The coin pinged against his the nail of his thumb, landed squarely in the center of his palm, and disappeared in his curled fingers. Connor looked away. "...I know."

He felt Markus' gaze on him for the next following minutes and refused to raise his eyes, not wanting to see what lingered on his friend's face. He knew his answer wasn't satisfying to Markus, because saying that he knew what he wasn't supposed to do wasn't the same as promising he wouldn't do it, but he had no idea if he was capable of doing exactly what Markus wanted of him and he didn't want to lie more by making empty promises. He heard Markus' clothes rustle as he moved and barely repressed a flinch when he felt something touch his shoulder, his newly recovered sense of pressure amplifying every sensation tenfold, but he hadn't been hit and Markus' hand was just settled there.

"Are you okay?" asked Markus concernedly.

Connor hastily nodded. "Yes, I- I was just surprised."

"Sorry." His friend removed his hand, but he kept the same leaning position and their proximity felt strangely private to Connor in their already private surroundings. "I just... You looked really scared earlier, when I found you next to the Butterfly Garden. Can you tell me what happened? I understand that the snow reminded you of the time your AI took back control, but other than that..." Markus made a clueless gesture.

"I don't know why the snow was such a problem this time. It's never been before," said Connor, feeling just as lost as Markus looked. "But it reminded me of when I was trapped in the Zen Garden. There was a snow storm, and Amanda was there, and I couldn't catch up to her because my insides felt frozen and- I don't know why this happened today. I've been in snow before. It's never had this effect on me."

Markus studied him closely, then his eyes grew distant for a few seconds before they focused on him again. It looked like he'd wanted to say something, but opted for something else. "You were trying to brush the snow off your jacket on the way to my quarters. Did it disturb you to see snow on your clothes?"

Connor considered this. "Maybe it did. I'm not sure."

A short pause, and then Markus spoke again. "I'm not saying I know why you've never had this problem before, but I can venture a guess as to why you were ever reminded of that time at all. You got caught in the middle of a snow storm while you were alone on patrol, and you were practically in the same conditions as you were in the memory you showed me before."

Connor remembered that. He wished Markus hadn't been privy to any of his memories at all.

Markus continued talking when Connor didn't. "You were surrounded by snow, wearing nearly the same clothes you did back then, alone, and Hank told me you thought you were going to be overridden. You had the same feeling of urgency as the one you had when you were trying to escape your own programming to avoid shooting me. I think it's safe to say you'd gathered enough settings similar to that time to draw parallels between the then and now. You panicked because it was the same situation."

"It's likely," conceded Connor, but even as he willed himself to sound calm he could feel agitation rising within him. If a snow storm was enough to send him in this kind of panic, then who was to say it wouldn't happen again? It was possible he'd react the exact same way he had today if he got caught up in one again while he was alone. He didn't want that to happen. It had been too frightening, and he recognized now that he'd lost himself in his memory, leaving him frozen and vulnerable as he'd been unable to do much else but to crouch on the ground in fear.

"Connor," said Markus, and his gentle voice pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up to see his friend giving him a meaningful look, one that was equal parts reassuring and grounding. "You're not in the storm anymore, all right? What are you scared of?"

Connor guessed his LED must have started going red again, because Markus' eyes had flitted up to his temple for a split second. He brought his fingers to the side of his forehead to hide it and shook his head. "I don't want it to happen again."

"We can try to find a way to avoid that," Markus said. "I think what caused it was how similar your situation was to the one you were in back then. Maybe it would help if you weren't as exposed to the weather? You should try wearing different clothes, or at least wear something over your usual outfit."

"Maybe," said Connor unconvincingly. He felt uneasy at the prospect of modifying his appearance.

Markus offered him an encouraging smile. "I'm aware you don't like change, you know. It was obvious from the way you chose to discard your CyberLife jacket just to replace it with something that looked nearly the exact same, and you don't ever try to wear anything different. But I think wearing something thicker would probably help you in this case."

"I don't know."

"You should try," suggested Markus. "I could help you find a coat."

Connor knew his friend was talking about the multitude of clothing shops scattered near New Jericho. Ever since humans and androids had started circulating in Detroit again in clearly segregated territories, the leaders had decided that some places were safer to walk for Markus than before, and that included New Jericho's periphery now that supplementary patrols had been put into place. Then number of assaults had drastically disminished on the outskirts of New Jericho since then, so Markus was allowed to walk outside the walls alone or with a single bodyguard if he wanted to reach the outer limit of New Jericho's periphery. 

Markus was proposing to help him find suitable clothes to prevent a breakdown like the earlier one, but Connor guessed it was also an excuse for the deviant leader to walk around and take a break from his work. It was essentially a favor for Connor that doubled as a permission for Markus, and Connor was more than happy to help his friend feel less guilty about spending some time outside New Jericho's walls.

"You could," agreed Connor. "When do you want to go?"

Markus smiled at him gratefully, and Connor knew they were on the same wavelength. "I can't today, but tomorrow evening would be nice."

"Tomorrow evening it is."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 28/09/2019 -
> 
> Connor: I might be having a breakdown  
> Hank: Call Markus to the rescue  
> Connor: Oh right I can do that *alerts Markus*  
> Androids of New Jericho : Holy shit was that Markus naruto-running
> 
> Hey pumpkin! That was some nice emotional whump, huh? Less cruel than what I've been throwing at Markus for the past chapters... Haha...  
> I'm a bit overwhelmed by my studies these days and I'm trying hard to keep up with the update schedule. It's not easy, but I'm doing my best!  
> Also, I have a Discord server (DBH and End Roll related) now so don't hesitate to pm me or eremazing if you want to join!
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Connor is working too much again~ But at least he knows not to keep his troubles to himself when he understands that they're important.  
> \- Connor's behaviour in the flashback scene mirrors the one he had at the beginning of this story. How his priorities have changed since then.  
> \- Yes Markus! YES! It's time someone actually did something about that interfacing issue. Not the best timing, admittedly, but don't worry, Markus made sure to ask Nines if he could be around before starting that conversation.  
> \- No Connor! NO! Don't hurt yourself! Look, you're freaking Markus out!  
> \- Anyway, Connor made a bit of progress today. Huzzah!  
> \- It is time for the Coat TM. Connor shall finally wear something a bit different, for a change, even if it's only covering his usual getup.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	48. Winter Coat

It was strange, mused Connor as he waited outside for Markus to step out of his quarters, that he felt so at ease spending time with the deviant leader. The RK200 had been just another target a mere five months ago, and then had become yet another authority figure Connor needed to obey, albeit one that inquired about his well-being much too often. Then their dynamic had shifted over time and they'd gone from associates to friends, something Connor had never thought would happen with the deviant he'd hunted and attempted to kill several times. He still couldn't fully grasp the nature of their relationship, but he knew that it went deeper than he'd first envisioned possible. They knew things about each other that they were unwilling to talk about with anyone else, and they understood even without putting words on them the dark shapes that swam beneath their collected surface. Connor liked Markus, but it was still strange to think that deviant hunter and deviant leader were close enough that they trusted each other with knowledge which made them vulnerable. It was strange to think that he'd been forgiven for his actions, and difficult to believe even now. Connor felt like he'd cheated, somehow; that he'd bypassed some firewall straight into Markus' circle of closest friends, despite having hurt and betrayed and killed so many, despite being a dirty traitor to the very people Markus had fought so hard to protect and liberate. 

Sometimes, it still didn't feel real. Sometimes, Connor would stop in his tracks and look around and wonder if this wasn't all just some kind of simulation he was trapped in. Sometimes, Connor couldn't help but stare at Markus in an attempt to make out cracks in his friendly facade, or at Hank to find a flicker of static in his appearance, and maybe if he just looked hard enough, he'd find signs that it was all fake. Sometimes, Connor remembered he didn't deserve to be happy. He didn't deserve Hank's comforting smiles, or Nines' appeasing chatter, or Josh's calm patience, or Markus' appreciative trust. No, what Connor deserved was Simon's eternal fear, North's heinous dislike, Sixty's reminders, Detective Reed's spite, the wary looks deviants shot him in the street.

Amanda's reproval. He missed Amanda.

Deactivation. It was a thought that still lingered, as frightening as it was.

Connor shook his head to clear his mind: now wasn't the time to lose himself in it. He didn't want anyone to see him brood, least of all Markus. He knew how much it troubled his friends when they managed to guess that he was having dark thoughts, and he didn't want to trouble anyone at all. Connor's audio units picked up familiar voices coming from his left and he was surprised to see Markus appear around the corner with Nines at his side.

"But why?" the RK900 was asking Markus, a confused look on his face.

"Connor needs a coat," answered Markus, and then he gestured towards Nines' navy windbreaker. "And you need a _better_ coat."

"It's a nice coat," Nines protested defensively.

"It's Josh's," stated Markus as if that explained everything.

"I like it," retorted Nines.

Markus shot him a teasing smile. "I figured. We're still going to get something better for you both."

"I don't need anything better." Nines looked at Connor when they stopped in front of him, clearly expecting him to agree, but when Connor remained silent his blue eyes shifted into puzzlement. "Why do you need a coat, Connor?"

Connor tried to sound uncaring, but his answer was too curt. "For the weather."

"Unlike you, Connor doesn't have anything to cover his regular outfit with," Markus helpfully intervened.

"Josh only gave me this because I told him my partner at work found it off-putting that I walked around in just a turtleneck," said Nines.

"To tell you the truth, your partner wasn't the only one to think that. I've heard a lot of androids speculating whether or not the two of you would ever dress accordingly to the weather."

"Really." Nines sounded a bit miffed to hear that.

"Really," said Markus with a grin. "But trust me, once you start paying more attention to the things you wear, you easily get used to the idea of changing your clothes more often."

"I fail to see what the point would be," said Nines, and Connor nodded in agreement. He still didn't much feel like dressing any differently from usual, even as they were about to get him a coat.

"I'm not surprised," said Markus, looking amused. "Come on, let's go."

He started walking and Connor obediently followed, so Nines didn't hesitate for long and fell in line with them. They must've been a strange sight, the three RK models of New Jericho trailing after one another, the savior of androidkind all friendly chatter and amiable smiles with the two models that had been created to destroy the likes of him. Connor glanced over at Nines. The RK900 didn't seem to harbour the same thoughts, since he was answering Markus' inquiries with mirroring ease. Connor looked back ahead and focused on standing at the right position, the right distance, the right stance to protect Markus if he needed to on the outside of New Jericho. He recalled the reason why they were doing this excursion at all was because Markus had seen him stress in the snow, and the thought stopped him from talking. Ultimately, that didn't matter much, because the conversation between Markus and Nines was flowing easily and there was no need for him to participate in it.

"Have you ever gone outside of Detroit?" Nines was asking.

"I have, actually. I used to travel a lot with my- with Carl." 

Connor looked at Markus. His expression hadn't changed, but he guessed that his friend was still coming to terms with the death of his father and trying to avoid reminders of what he had lost. Maybe it was easier for him to call Carl by his name. Maybe he simply didn't want Nines to know about it at all. After all, Markus and Nines weren't that close.

Nines didn't pay any attention to the stumble in Markus' words, his blue eyes suddenly bright with curiosity. "You have? Josh told me he'd been sent on an educational trip with his students once, out near a lake. Where did you go?"

"Many places," Markus answered with a smile. Connor thought it looked a bit sad. "Carl enjoyed seaside events the most, so I've seen beaches before. Not often, but when I think about it now, it was a beautiful sight."

"I'd like to see that," said Nines. "And I want to see a forest too. Josh said he had good memories of the forest near the lake."

"We should travel one day, when time will allow us that. Get out of Detroit for a bit. I want to go back to the seashore."

Both Nines and Connor looked at Markus in surprise. There was unmistakable hopefulness in the leader's voice, like he believed this would be a possibility sooner than later despite the context they were currently living in. Connor didn't think it would be safe for Markus to take a trip far from New Jericho anytime soon, and he himself couldn't envision leaving this city. Detroit was all he knew.

"We should," said Nines. He was trying to keep calm in Markus' presence, but Connor could tell he was excited by the prospect.

Markus smiled at them both. "We will. Things will get better for our kind, and then we'll be able to walk around freely."

"... Do you really believe that?" asked Connor quietly, and both pairs of eyes turned on him, one a mismatched shade of confidence and the other an optimistic blue. It was the first time he'd spoken since they'd departed from New Jericho.

"Of course," said Markus. "Things are changing as we speak, such a future isn't far."

Connor gazed at them both, then nodded quietly. He could understand that deviants' desire for freedom was far from satisfied, but he was unable to envision the future in the same way they envisioned theirs, bright and limitless. He would let them be positive in his place, the way he always did. Besides, he couldn't grasp why travelling would be such a good thing. Connor couldn't deny that he was curious to know what it would be like to find himself in a completely different setting than Detroit's skyscrapers, metal rails and concrete walls; but he was afraid to feel lost. He already felt like everything around him would collapse at any moment if he didn't hold on to the few familiar things that constituted his world, like the city, the DPD, Hank, New Jericho, Nines, Markus, Josh. The disappearance of the Zen Garden and Amanda had kicked something loose within him: the foundations he was standing on were brittle and if he ever stopped hanging onto his surroundings, the ground would give way beneath his feet and he would fall. Stepping outside this city would be equivalent to stepping out of himself: he would lose his shell. He would lose part of himself. Connor was afraid of change, and he couldn't see himself initiating it in that way.

"Hank brought to my attention that the DPD has a very widespread anti-android mentality," Markus suddenly said. "Are you both doing okay working there?"

Nines' lips turned up in a smirk. "I've had no problem regulating that issue on my end."

Connor shot him a reproving look, knowing full well he was talking about his very loud and disrespectful partner who'd ended up pinned against a wall and implicitely threatened more than once. Then he looked at Markus and declared: "It's nothing we can't handle."

"Connor, you've been dealing with that since your activation," insisted Markus. "Are you sure you don't want to take a break from it?"

"I've taken a break already," Connor pointed out, and though no one mentioned how bad of a decision it had been for him, he was certain all three of them were thinking it. "Markus, you really don't need to concern yourself about this. I'm used to it, and I don't mind."

"...If you say so," Markus slowly said. Then he looked up and pointed at a nearby sign. "This should be a good place to find you both a coat."

They stepped inside and Nines immediately wandered off to pick his own. Connor and Markus started sifting through the available clothes, the former absent-mindedly running his hands along the different shoulder pads and curiously feeling out the fabric while the latter dug his arms deep into the various hangers to vigorously shift the clothes around. Nines returned a few seconds later holding a near-replica of what he was already wearing, proudly presenting his find to the leader, and Connor felt his lips twitch when he saw the look on his friend's face. Markus was half-disapproving, half-disbelieving when Nines insisted that even if it _looked_ like a dark-colored windbreaker, it didn't have any of the same details than Josh's. 

"It looks almost exactly the same!" exclaimed Markus.

"But it's not," insisted Nines. "See, the zipper is bigger here. And there are three more buttons lining it, as well as two more pockets on the inside, and even the fabric is-"

"Nines," Markus cut him off again, this time with barely dissimulated laughter. "This isn't any different from what you're currently wearing."

Nines looked over to the side to seek out Connor's support, who'd watched the exchange in fascinated silence, and Markus did the same with a conniving smile which indicated he already knew that Connor would agree with him. The fact was that although Connor understood exactly where Nines was coming from- it was true that this new windbreaker didn't look anything like the one Josh had given him- he also understood what Markus was saying. They'd come here expressely to find winter-adapted coats, and the one Nines had chosen looked fit for spring showers at best. It also didn't look very... good. Connor would never qualify himself as a fashionable individual, but he'd seen the multitude of outfits Markus possessed in his quarters and they all looked nice on him. Connor only needed to compare Markus and North's harmonious styles to what Nines was currently holding up to tell that this windbreaker clearly wasn't going to put the RK900 to his best advantage: it was too short at the sleeves and just didn't suit his strong frame.

"... I think you should try to find something else," Connor eventually ventured.

"Please, for the love of rA9, put that back and try to find something that _won't_ make you look like Josh," Markus begged theatrically, right before he grinned teasingly at the RK900. Nines looked slightly dejected, but he did as he was told. 

It surprised Connor to see that Markus was acting so jovial with them. Connor had been deeply invested in his cold cases for a while now and had been taking less pauses in his friend's company, and with the latest tensions Markus hadn't seemed to be able to relax all that much. The pauses they did take together in his quarters were spent in companionable silence as they both needed the calm, so they didn't usually engage in this kind of light banter. Whenever they did talk, it was about personal and serious matters. Markus only rarely made jokes and Connor didn't think he was to make any himself. Maybe it was spending time outside the walls of New Jericho that contributed to Markus' more carefree state of mind; it was the first time they'd done so in a context that didn't involve business for android rights or going to see Carl, both situations in which Markus couldn't possibly rid himself of troubling thoughts. However, in the here and now, Markus seemed to be enjoying himself. Thinking back on it, Connor didn't think he'd ever seen Markus acting like he was having fun before. In fact, it was the first time he'd heard him laugh outright. Connor played back the sound in his mind and realised he found it pleasing.

Markus noticed him staring, and with a smile still lingering on his lips he asked: "What is it? Am I being too hard on Josh's fashion sense?"

"No, it's not that," Connor quickly answered, and then he hesitated, but only for a second. "...You laughed."

Markus looked a bit taken aback by his remark at first, and his gaze dropped down minutely, but he seemed happy when he looked at him again. "I did. Was that the first time you heard me laugh?"

Connor nodded, feeling a bit stupid for ever pointing it out. Of course Markus didn't laugh a lot, with everything he had to deal with all the time, but that didn't mean he couldn't. Connor had heard a few deviants in New Jericho laughing together from afar, he'd known it was possible. He didn't know why the knowledge that Markus could laugh as well came as such a surprise.

Markus grinned and said: "I couldn't help myself, Nines' fixation on windbreakers is too amusing."

Connor felt his lips twitch for the second time that day and replied without thinking: "Says the one I've never seen out of a long coat."

Markus' eyes widened in surprise and Connor immediately regretted saying what he'd said. He hastily backed off and straightened his posture, letting his arms passively hang at his sides so that Markus wouldn't think he was defying him. Connor knew to yield and wait for Markus' expression to harden in stern disapproval, for the leader's voice to crack out like a whip in sharp admonishment for being disrespectful, for acting too friendly, the way Amanda's had when Connor hadn't yet learned of the invisible barrier between them. But there was none of that. Instead, Markus stayed in the exact same position, and his expression cycled through surprised, confused, uncertain, until it finally settled on an easy-going smile. 

"You got me there," he said light-heartedly, and then he resumed looking through the clothing rack in front of him.

Connor stared at him, unsure what he was supposed to do. Markus wasn't angry, so Connor hadn't made a mistake; but he felt like there was a piece missing. He'd... He'd _teased_ Markus. Connor had teased others before, it had been part of his social programming even as a machine and he'd done it to Hank most of all, but this was different: he'd made fun of the individual who gave him orders. He'd acted overtly familiar with Markus, he was supposed to get reprimanded for it, but he hadn't been and now Connor was at loss. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. Was Markus planning to reprimand him later? Would there be a delayed consequence to what he'd just done? It seemed unlikely, but Connor wasn't sure and he didn't want to be unsure.

"Markus, I apologize. I won't do that again."

Markus looked at him, this time with a genuinely puzzled face. "What are you talking about?"

"I understand that I spoke out of turn. I'll be more careful in the future."

"Out of turn?" echoed Markus disbelievingly. "Connor, that-" He stopped himself, looked back at the clothes. Then he retrieved his hands from the rack and turned to face Connor. "Are you saying this because I'm your leader?"

Connor stared back at him. Wasn't it obvious?

Markus took a step closer. "We're _friends_ , you're allowed to say things like that. That was a good comeback." He hesitated, and then added: "To be honest, I didn't expect you to do that. It's the first time you've joked around with me."

Connor wanted to apologize again for doing it, but it clearly wasn't what Markus wanted from him. This was confusing. Connor tilted his head to the side and asked: "So it's alright if I do it?"

"Of course!" Markus looked baffled that Connor was even asking the question. "Don't tell me the only reason I thought you didn't have a sense of humor was because you forbade yourself from cracking any jokes around me. Actually, is that it? Is that the reason?"

"...You're my leader," Connor answered, a tad helplessly.

Markus stared at him incredulously, then closed the distance between them and grabbed Connor by the shoulders so that they were face to face. 

"All right, Connor, I want to make this clear: when we're talking business and orders, I am your leader, but outside of that I'm your friend. That means that you're allowed- in fact, you're encouraged- to tease me whenever you feel like it, just like I've teased you before and just like I'll tease you in the future. It's not... disrespectful, or whatever it is you're telling yourself. Believe it or not, I actually _like_ having this kind of exchange with my friends."

"...Okay," said Connor, because Markus was right up in his face waiting for a reaction and showed no signs of letting go until he got one.

"What were you thinking just now?" asked Markus. "You looked like you expected to get yelled at."

Connor looked away. "Acting too familiar wasn't approved by the people I worked for."

"CyberLife. Was it Amanda?"

"Yes." Connor raised his gaze back up to his friend's face. "It doesn't matter anymore. She's gone, and they don't control me."

"I think it might matter, actually. She's gone, but you still behave like she's around." Markus sounded bothered, and his eyes searched Connor's. "... You behave like I'm going to react like her. You've behaved like that for a while, I've noticed."

Connor didn't know what to say to that.

Markus silently peered at him for a moment, and then quietly murmured: "This isn't a good day."

"What?" said Connor, confused.

"...Never mind." Markus finally let go of him. "Look, let's just go back to finding you a coat and forget about all of that for now, okay?"

Connor watched Markus busy himself the clothing rack once more, and answered: "...Okay."

He did the same, and started feeling for the different types of clothes again. It soon became apparent that the thicker, softer fabrics were the ones he felt most as ease touching. It was a bit like running his hand through Sumo's fur: the deeper layers were denser, the threads were supple and smooth beneath his finger pads. Connor didn't know how he felt about wearing that type of clothing, however. It seemed heavy, and he wasn't used to heavy clothes. RK800s were light models, they relied on their agility to be efficient in pursuing and fighting suspects; and even if Connor wasn't useful as an investigative model anymore, he wasn't sure he was ready to modify his overall weight because of a coat. What if he needed to be fast during a patrol? He wasn't like Nines, he didn't have systems as advanced as an RK900's that compensated heavier weight by forcing speed of movement.

Connor realised Nines hadn't been back in a while and glanced towards the direction the RK900 had left in, and then different thoughts starting trickling into his mind. Nines had been acting a bit differently lately, like he was distracted by matters Connor had no knowledge of. He'd asked Nines if everything was all right, once, but the RK900 hadn't answered yes and it had felt like he'd evaded part of Connor's concerns. At least Nines was talking with Josh, so whatever the problem was, it was likely Josh knew about it. It still stung a bit to know that Connor wasn't allowed to know about Nines' problems when Nines knew so much about his. It didn't feel fair, but then again Connor had tried to hide things from Nines before as well. Maybe Nines was finally getting tired of sticking so close. Maybe he was finally realizing that Connor wasn't that worthy of a friend. It was bound to happen at some point, but Connor hadn't thought it would happen so soon.

"How about trying this one on?" said Markus behind him, and Connor snapped out of his thoughts. When he turned around to face his friend, he saw that Markus was holding out a duffle coat. The fabric looked like the ones Connor had been rubbing his fingers against and was of a warm brown shade. Connor studied it for a short moment, then reached out to slide the tip of his fingers along one of the sleeves. It was wool, just like he'd thought it was. He decided to do as Markus had suggested and smoothly pulled the coat around his shoulders, where it heavily settled. It also felt strangely secure.

Markus smiled and earnestly said: "It suits you. You look good."

Connor wasn't sure how to react. Markus often smiled at him, he'd smiled at him just a few minutes ago, but this was... different. He couldn't find the right words to describe it; he only knew that it was making him feel a bit better. The praise of Markus' words sent a pleasant thrill through his wires and when he started feeling thirium rising up to his face, Connor quickly ducked his head to hide from his friend's gaze. It wasn't the first time he'd felt the liquid rush beneath his skin, and he still hadn't figured out why this could happen at all. He heard Markus chuckle at his side. 

"I can see your ears are blue, you know."

Connor tried to gather his wits about him and straightened with as much pride as he could muster, despite how ridiculous he must've looked with a blue-tinged face. "I don't know why this is happening."

"Why you're blushing?" asked Markus with a little smile.

Connor forced himself not to look away a second time. He didn't know why this conversation was making him this agitated. "It's not blushing. We're androids, we don't blush."

"Trust me, we do. You're absolutely blushing right now, Connor."

"I'm not," denied Connor. "It's just... It must be some kind of malfunction."

"No," simply said Markus, and now his smile was gentler. "You're just happy. Compliments will do that to a person."

And Connor realized that it was true. He did like compliments. It did make him happy to hear them. And he didn't like that this was the case.

"Don't do that. Don't compliment me," he suddenly said.

Markus' smile fell. "What? Why?"

This look, a look of concern in his friend's mismatched eyes, was one Connor couldn't hold. He gave up eye contact and stared down at the ground. "Just don't do it."

He knew that if he told Markus what he was thinking, that he didn't deserve them because he didn't deserve to be happy, his friend wouldn't let it go and they'd have another conversation about Connor's state of mind that would inevitably end up in some kind of disagreement. 

Markus was silent for a bit, and then said: "Look, Connor, if I think you look good in that coat then I'm going to say it. What would be the point of keeping that to myself?"

"What's the point of telling me?" he snapped back.

Another silence. Then: "I just want you to feel better." When Connor looked up, he saw that Markus was gazing at him intently. "I know you hate that I saw you like that in the snow. I know you don't like that we came here for you. I know that you've been having bad thoughts today. I can tell, even if you won't say it. So if there's anything I can do to help you feel better, I'll do it, and that includes compliments."

They stared at each other. There was no sound in the shop, besides the rifling through the coat racks several feet away that picked up seconds later. Nines must have heard all of that, but Connor didn't find it in him to care right at the moment. There was a strange weight in his chest that was conflictingly comforting and suffocating. Connor knew he was more at ease with Markus than with any of the other leaders, that much he'd realized; but he didn't understand this sensation that appeared when Markus spoke to him like this. He didn't understand _why_ Markus insisted to speak to him like this.

"You look good in that coat, Connor, and that's all it is," said Markus calmly. "Don't be scared to hear the truth just because it's something positive about you."

Connor shook his head. "Just please don't, Markus. I don't want this."

"That's too bad, because I'm going to do it regardless." Markus took a step closer and lightly settled his hand on Connor's left arm, and Connor realized that his friend hadn't forgotten which arm was a sensitive spot for him.

"Markus-"

"I know it's difficult to let yourself be happy. I know what guilt is like too, remember?"

Connor shut his mouth and quietly nodded.

"Neither of us can let our guilt be the stronger part of us. We can't allow it to take over. You have to let yourself accept that you're not all bad, Connor, even if you've made mistakes."

Connor' gaze dropped to the ground. "But it's so difficult."

"I know. I'm not saying otherwise."

"I can't do it," he said. He would've stopped there, but then the words kept flowing. "I don't deserve to do it. I can't do it, I can't let that- I can't- It's not right, I can't do it, I shouldn't be allowed to-"

" _Connor._ "

His head snapped up when he heard the insistence in Markus' voice. His friend's eyes were intense, but patient and understanding; there was no reproval on his face.

"I know it's difficult, okay? I'm aware of that. That's why for now, I just want you to take the compliment. It's only a harmless compliment about your appearance, nothing else. It's not about who you are, or what you do, or your work, or your behaviour. You just look nice in this coat, and that's all. You don't even have to choose that coat if you don't want it."

Connor stared at him. They were spending too much time on what had just been an off-handed remark from Markus. He shouldn't have taken it so seriously. It was just a coat. Why had he made such a big deal out of it? Connor couldn't stand himself. Why couldn't he have just accepted the compliment and moved on? This whole conversation never would've happened if he'd done that. Markus wouldn't have had to reassure him like this. This situation was stupid. He was stupid.

"Connor, stop thinking," suddenly ordered Markus, and Connor stopped sliding down the spiral of his mind. The hand on his arm slid up to his shoulder and gently exerted more pressure, grounding and safe. He didn't remember when he'd started perceiving a touch on the shoulder to be a comforting thing, but right now he didn't feel threatened by the contact at all and he wanted it to stay. Markus peered at his face. "I'd like to tell you that it's all right if you can't accept that compliment right away, but you've been acting very self-loathing for a very long time. I think I want you to make this step today. Can you do that?"

Connor gazed into his friend's blue and green eyes and tried to regain a grip on himself. Markus thought that the coat suited him, and all Connor had to do was accept that fact. He wouldn't be able to change Markus' opinion, and he wouldn't be able to stop Markus from saying what was on his mind. He just needed to accept that someone liked his appearance, even if Connor didn't want anyone to think anything positive about him. He didn't know why it was so hard to do today. Markus had complimented him once before, when Connor had first worn something different from his CyberLife outfit- the brown sweater Hank had given him at Elijah Kamski's house. It hadn't had so much of an effect on him back then; but today, today it was hard to accept. Maybe because Connor had vividly remembered just yesterday how close he'd been to shooting the RK200. How close he'd been to killing the android who was now trying to help him get better. How close he'd been to permanently eliminating a friend he didn't des-

"Connor, can you do that?" repeated Markus with an unwavering gaze. 

There was belief in it, belief that Connor could, in fact do that. Connor didn't want to disappoint him. Maybe if he spoke a confirmation out loud, it would become a reality. Maybe if he said he was able to take this one compliment, this one encouragement, this one instance of approval, he would be able to take more in the future. It was just a step. Markus had said it was just a step. What was one step in the grand scheme of things? It didn't mean Connor would have to accept any other positive perceptions anyone could have of him. He could still refuse any other praise than this compliment about the coat he was wearing right now.

Connor finally spoke. "... Thank you. For... the compliment."

Markus offered him an easy smile. "You're welcome. So, would you like to have this coat?"

Connor looked down at himself. He did enjoy the thick and fuzzy texture of the coat, and it covered him down to mid-thigh which meant it would shield him from any of the snow that threatened to land on his outfit. If he wore this, he wouldn't ever have the same visual he'd had of his suit jacket covered in snowflakes the way it had been in the Zen Garden. It was heavy, but the more he felt its weight snug around his frame, the more at ease he felt.

Connor looked back up at Markus and said: "Yes, I think I do."

Markus nodded approvingly and stepped over to the sleek flat cash register, letting his white hand rest on its side. His eyes grew unfocused for a second, and then he turned back to Connor and said: "I bought it. It's yours now."

Connor didn't know how to react. Markus must have used money Carl had given him access to before dying, and Connor felt like it should have gone into something more important than this coat. But it had been Markus' choice, and Connor also knew he needed the coat to help ground him in the present if he wanted to avoid panicking in the snow again. He absent-mindedly tugged on the collar of his coat so it would cover his neck, and then at the sleeves, and then said in a quiet voice: "Thank you, Markus."

His friend came back to his side. "It's no problem. I'm glad we could talk about all of this."

Connor wasn't sure what to say and was trying to find a suitable answer when Nines suddenly reappeared with five different coats, four of which were more windbreakers- he apparently couldn't get past Josh's fashion taste while choosing- and the fifth being a strange hybrid between sweatshirt and leather jacket. Markus' face fell rather comically. 

"I know what you're going to tell me," declared Nines. "But I like these."

In the end they both reached a compromise: no windbreaker, but Nines could keep the navy blue color he'd grown accostumed to. Markus picked out a topcoat for him which looked _much_ more professional than the unidentifiable vest Nines had chosen on his own. 

"That's better," approved Markus as Nines walked up to them wearing his new coat. "What do you think, Connor?"

Both androids turned to him in expectation, and Connor faltered. After the conversation he'd had with Markus, he felt like any compliment would come out of his mouth sounding stilted. It was when he caught the hopeful look in Nines' eyes that he remembered just how eager the RK900 was for his approval most of the time, so he went for it.

"I agree." Connor tried to fish for a good compliment. "You look handsome."

"Do I?" asked Nines sceptically, even if he did look satisfied by Connor's answer. "It's just a coat."

"Which suits you very well," Markus immediately slipped in. "Just trust us on this, Nines. You look great."

"If you say so... " Nines still didn't seem convinced, and he mumbled: "I still like Josh's jacket better."

"This is just for the winter," Markus told him, in what was a clear plea for Nines not to discard his brand new topcoat just yet.

The latter shot him a brooding look and a muttered "I understand" before departing the store ahead of them. Markus looked at Connor with wide eyes.

"Is he _sulking?_ "

Connor felt a bit amused, and he reasoned: "You did force him out of his favourite piece of clothing just so he could look good."

"But that windbreaker looked horr-" Markus stopped himself and hurriedly amended: "It didn't suit him at all."

Connor didn't disagree; this opinion was a rather popular one amongst the New Jericho leaders, save for Josh of course. But even if the windbreaker looked too puffy on Nines and didn't go well with his clean-cut silhouette, it _was_ a meaningful gift from the first friend he'd made, so it was no wonder Nines was acting this sullen. Despite this, Connor was well-placed to know that the RK900 didn't hold grudges, and Nines respected Markus too much to actually stay mad at the leader.

"It's all right, Markus, he'll get over it. I think you did well having him replace it," Connor reassured his friend.

It worked, as Markus visibly relaxed. "I'm glad you think so. I was beginning to think that maybe I hadn't made the right choice."

"If Nines hadn't wanted to wear the coat you chose for him, he wouldn't have. Trust him to let you know when there's something he doesn't like." 

"So he liked the topcoat?"

"He liked the topcoat." 

They followed Nines outside and made their way back to New Jericho together. They received more stares than usual and Connor felt like retreating inside his new coat, away from the prying eyes, but Nines didn't seem disturbed by them at all- or maybe he was just pretending. Whatever the case, he left them soon enough to go see Josh and give him back his jacket now that he wouldn't be using it anymore. Connor decided he'd taken up enough of Markus' time and turned down his invitation to talk a bit longer in his quarters, preferring instead to briefly go see Hank before the time of his patrol.

Sumo seemed elated to have a brand new piece of clothing to sniff at, and Hank offered him a wide smile when he saw the coat Connor was wearing.

"Well shit, you look good! Don't tell me you chose that by yourself."

"I didn't, actually. Markus helped me."

"It looks great on you. I was wondering when you'd stop running around in just a jacket, but I gotta say, this exceeds my expectations."

Connor was incredulous. "Don't tell me you were in on that bet about me and Nines."

"I was, but hey, we only had to wait till the end of winter for you to get a coat," joked Hank. "So what made you and Markus go find one after all this time?"

"Nines got one too," precised Connor. "And. Well. Remember the glitch I had yesterday?"

Hank's expression turned serious. "Right, because of the snow. Markus saw you freak out, then?"

"...Yes. And consequently, he suggested that I wear something over my usual outfit as long as it would snow, to prevent any future associations I might make between the past and the present."

"That was smart of him," approved Hank. "You feeling better?"

"In general or because of the coat?"

"Both."

"... It's nice to have a coat that shields me from the snow," admitted Connor. "I'm otherwise relatively okay."

"Relatively?" echoed Hank.

"I've had bad thoughts today. Nothing I can't handle," he assured. "What about you? Have you made any progress with finding a new therapist?"

Hank had seen to two so far, and they hadn't been right for him; one had been "a total hack, bunch of hypnosis crap" and the other "a stuck-up prick who wouldn't tell the difference between an egg and a rock"- whatever that meant. He'd been looking for a third one for the last two weeks.

Hank rubbed the back of his head uneasily. "Yeah... I've got an appointment on Saturday." He let his hand drop to his side. "I'm really not feeling this shit, Connor. It's not working."

"I know it's difficult, Hank, but please keep trying. I want you to know that I appreciate your efforts very much," Connor told him.

"Yeah. Okay." Hank straightened a bit. "I'll keep trying, but I'm stopping at the fifth one."

"Right," nodded Connor. They'd cross that bridge when they'd get there.

 

When Connor showed up to work with his new coat the next day, Officer Miller and Officer Wilson both complimented him on his appearance. Other officers threw him curious glances, the same as Nines received when he arrived minutes later, as if they'd never seen an android wearing a coat before. Connor also noticed Detective Reed shoot Nines a look bordering on confusion, which was quickly overtaken by a grin.

"Woah, tin can. Didn't think you could clean up this nicely."

Connor was puzzled to notice that there was no bite, no mockery in that remark. It almost sounded... sincere.

Nines sounded taken aback as well when he answered: "Thank you, Detective Reed. Are you feeling all right?"

"What's it matter to you?"

"You are being... uncharacteristically nice to me. Did you perhaps hit your head before coming to work?"

"Oh, fuck off. You're ruining my good mood."

"I didn't think it was possible for you to be in a good mood."

"Maybe 'cause you keep ruining it."

Connor later figured out why Detective Reed had sounded glad to see Nines dressed like this when he overheard a discussion in the break room just ten minutes later.

"Cough it up. I won the bet, fair's fair."

"Yeah right, I bet you convinced it to wear that coat."

"Nah, didn't breathe a word. C'mon, make it rain!"

To think that the bet had even reached the DPD and that Connor hadn't noticed it despite being an investigative unit... It reassured him to some degree to know that Nines hadn't realized it either.

He was surprised to see Officer Chen approach him and Nines at the end of the day as they were leaving the DPD.

"Hey guys, love the chipper new outfits. Either of you seen Sixty today?"

Connor tilted his head to the side. Officer Chen rarely spoke to either of them and was one of the DPD officers who preferred to ignore Connor. The fact that she'd complimented them signified that she'd only done it so they'd feel inclined to answer to her question. The part that was _really_ curious, however, was the question itself. 

"No, I haven't since yesterday," he answered.

"Me neither," said Nines. "Why? Did something happen?"

"He didn't show up for work," answered Officer Chen. "I thought you two might know something. You're the only ones he talks to aside from me and the captain, and neither of us have had any news from him."

"I don't know what to tell you," said Connor. "We're not exactly on good terms with each other, so if anything were to happen, he definitely wouldn't try to reach out to me."

"What about you?" Officer Chen asked Nines.

Nines looked troubled. "I never managed to get him to accept a wireless transmission, so he'd have no way to join me if he needed to. Do you think something happened to him? Do you need help finding him?"

Officer Chen shrugged. "It's only been a day, so I think I'll wait for now. Maybe he just decided to leave for a while and thought we weren't worth notifying, it's not like he's as invested in the DPD as you two are."

Connor found that to be sound reasoning, but when he looked over to Nines, he saw that the RK900 had that strange preoccupied expression he'd been harbouring more often recently. It didn't take him long to connect the dots.

"Nines, do you know something?"

Nines' head snapped towards him and he looked like he'd been caught red-handed. He hesitated briefly, and said: "I know Sixty was acting troubled these last days."

"Is that why you were so distracted?"

"Yes," admitted Nines. "I didn't think it was that obvious."

"It was obvious enough. What do you know?"

"Do you remember that question he asked you in the break room, about what you'd do in the face of a threat?"

Connor nodded.

"He asked me the same thing the next day," revealed Nines. "And before that, he'd... shared some rather worrying information with me about the attack he underwent the night he went to Hank's house."

"So then you think he's in trouble?" asked Officer Chen. She hadn't reacted to the mention of the attack, so either she'd already known about that, either she didn't care.

"I'm not sure. I do know he must've felt like he wasn't completely safe," asserted Nines.

"Sixty's very resilient. He's a better fighter than me and he's just as resourceful," said Connor, even if it cost him to say this out loud. "If he was in trouble, he would've found a way to alert at least you, Officer. You didn't receive any messages, did you?"

"Only two," said Officer Chen, and she fished out her phone to show them. "I got them yesterday evening."

__________  
-23:08-  
RK800: Something came up.  
RK800: Don't wait for me tomorrow.  
Tina C: What is it?  
__________

"And nothing else since. He didn't answer my question, but that's usually how it goes with that little shit," she told them as she tucked it away in her pocket once more. Connor noticed that despite the annoyed tone in which she spoke the insult, Officer Chen didn't actually sound hateful. "My first thought was that he was really late, but then it was past noon and he still hadn't come in. I asked around and there was only a sighting of an RK800 near the DPD at about 7AM this morning, but that's it."

"I didn't see him at the charging station last night or this morning, but I can check if he spent the night there at all if you want," suggested Connor.

"That's be good to know, yeah," said Officer Chen. "But either way, I don't get why he came near the DPD this morning and then didn't show up to work. That's why I think he might've just bailed."

"As long as we don't know what that _something_ in the message was, we can't tell for sure why he's gone," said Nines.

"Yeah. All I intended to do was watch out for any more sightings," nodded Officer Chen. "But Sixty's a slippery little bastard, if he doesn't want to be found, he probably won't be."

"I hope he's not up to anything," said Connor quietly. Part of him was glad that Sixty had disappeared, but the other was worried. If the cruel RK800 wasn't in Connor's line of sight, then he could be anywhere, and Connor still hadn't figured out his objective after all this time.

"Me neither," said Officer Chen. "Look, if I don't get any sign of him in the next forty-eight hours, I'll consider he's missing. Until then I'm just gonna assume he fucked off to do that something he talked about because he didn't finish it last night."

"But it's strange that he didn't send you another message to tell you this," observed Nines.

"I know," stated Officer Chen drily. "I may be human, but I do have a brain, you plastic jerk. I'm not so inferior to you that I haven't figured that much out. Why do you think I'd be telling you about this in the first place if I didn't feel any concern?"

"I'm sorry," sheepishly apologized Nines. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Right," she answered testily. "Just keep an eye out, will you? And I want to know if you find anything."

"Of course."

 

Sixty's disappearance was preoccupying, but not as much as the news Connor learned later that evening while reporting to Markus. His friend was pacing in front of the podium when he found him, a stern expression on his face.

"Markus? What's wrong?" inquired Connor as he approached the podium. He didn't want to crowd the other's space, so he remained a few feet away from the agitated leader.

Markus stopped in his tracks and looked at him, eyes hard and troubled. "It's Keats. He's gone."

Connor frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I mean he's not answering. He's not in his apartment either, I checked. No one knows where he went."

"How long has he been gone?"

"Last time he was seen was yesterday, so it hasn't been that long," conceded Markus. "But after all the others who've disappeared, I'm worried about him. He's never been unreachable before."

"You mean his comms are cut off?" asked Connor. Shutting off a transmission with another android wasn't usually done without a word of warning, and Keats didn't seem to be that careless, especially considering that him and Markus had gotten closer thanks to Carl.

"Maybe he had an issue with it," said Markus. "An error of some kind, or physical damage, but I really don't like this."

"I understand." Connor watched Markus resume his pacing, and announced: "Sixty has disappeared as well. He was last seen this morning in the DPD's whereabouts at 7 AM. Neither me nor Nines were connected to him, so we have no way of locating him."

"... Damn," muttered Markus. His voice was so quiet that it almost went unheard, but Connor was very surprised to know that the leader could swear. The missing androids situation was visibly getting to Markus more than he'd first been willing to show.

"I'm doing my best to find a lead," Connor quickly said.

Markus looked at him again. "I know, but this is just..." He clenched his fists in frustration. "I feel like I can't do anything. This is getting out of hand, we're losing too many too fast."

"I'll find something," he insisted. 

Markus stared at him, and then his features which had been hardened by worry eased into something more assured. "I know, Connor. If anyone can do it, it's you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 04/10/2019 -
> 
> Markus: You look good  
> Connor, through gritted teeth: You take that back _right now_
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> Let's summarize the RK's oufits: Markus really likes his revolutionary coats so he's always wearing one or the other, but mostly he keeps the one he was wearing during his speech. Sixty has gray pants and waistcoat, and a DPD jacket when he's out on patrol with Officer Chen. Connor wears dark jeans, dark suit jacket, black tie and brown duffle coat (Markus wishes he could get Connor to stop wearing the suit jacket but he knows the coat's enough change for now). Nines wears black pants, black turtleneck, and navy topcoat.  
> And they all look _amazing~_  
>  In other news, imthefansentbyfanfiction got inspired by GM,L and started writing a fic in an AU that mixes the Avengers and DBH universes called Ripped Apart (it's linked at the very end of my work)! I'm super glad about this and looking forward to where it leads!
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Hope you guys aren't too cross at Markus (and at me) for bringing Nines along on the "date". It would've been too easy otherwise, haha... Though Concon and Markus did get a moment.  
> \- Josh gets _so_ judged for his fashion sense. Nines doesn't like that. Don't be mean to his friend >:(  
> \- For someone who doesn't like children, Nines sure behaves like one. Look at how eager he is to get that brand-new windbreaker. I love this cinnamon roll <3  
> \- Awww Markus is laughing. I do believe it's the first time he's really taken time off New Jericho!  
> \- Awwwww Concon's blushinnnnnng, and Markus dishes out those compliments wayyyy too easily  
> \- Poor Connor's in a bad headspace today but Markus does his best to help him. Just let him be an adorable friend who tells you just how cool and wonderful you are, Connor!  
> \- Trying to find the right therapist is super tiring. You go, Hank! I commend you for keeping the search going.  
> \- _Everyone_ was in on the bet, Connor, don't kid yourself. Yeah, even Resident-Jackass-Reed. Apparently I really like when bets are going on in this story, haha. But I mean... It's _March_ and Connor's still walking around in just his suit jacket, I know a few who would've won that bet if Markus hadn't intervened.  
> \- Where could Sixty have gone? Hmmm.  
> \- Wuh ohhhh androids are still disappearing. Will they be found, and what will happen then? Find out in the next episode!
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	49. Injustice

Unfortunately for Markus, putting his trust in Connor wasn't enough to guarantee results. Connor tried everything, rifling through cases up to the oldest android disappearances including those that were due to deviancy, going through hours and hours of public surveillance tape, taking testimonies and pouring over various reports; but whoever was behind the various missing cases was organized enough to cover their tracks. It was likely that there was a group of individuals responsible for most of these disappearances, but the mystery remained as to what their objective was, and whether or not there was a leader they could find and neutralize. It could've simply been hate crimes, but there weren't as many found bodies as there were disappearances and the _modus operandi_ was too methodical and too clean for that kind of objective. Android trafficking was another possibility, as well as Red Ice manufacture, but why go through the trouble of abducting deviants of New Jericho whose disappearance would surely be reported instead of only aiming for the lost ones ambling the many streets of Detroit? It made no sense. The number of missing androids was well into thirty now and the only pattern Connor had managed to discern was that most of the disappeared models were domestic: caretakers, gardeners, cleaners, waiters, shopkeepers... This was all he'd been able to gather. He'd tried to push for more, but he'd had to face it soon enough; determination would only get him so far. For now, Connor couldn't do much more to help prevent future cases. Markus would have to deal with the lack of information, and Keats would remain missing. It was insufficient. Connor felt insufficient.

His battery levels were still suboptimal, and the synthetic skin of his stomach and back had retreated to compensate for his reactivated pressure sensors. On Sunday they'd dipped below their usual treshold and even if Connor knew he should have kept them at a more acceptable level, he didn't want to do that. He was careful not to let them reach 20% until the end of the day when he needed less power, because he didn't want this to prevent him from doing his work; but he also didn't stop them from doing so when he was fully aware he should've. 20% wasn't critical, but it was low enough to be considered dangerous by most, and he knew Markus would certainly be angry at him for letting his levels reach such depths just like he'd been when he'd learned Connor was forcing himself to function in low battery mode to prevent Amanda from taking over again all those months ago. Connor's excuse this time wasn't a good one, either; this wasn't to stop Amanda, but to get rid of the inexplicable weight that lingered inside of him, one that he wasn't sure Markus would understand existed when Connor himself couldn't explain it. He could play out multiple scenarios where he admitted what he was doing to his friend, and Markus wasn't able to understand why in any of them. 

Connor had considered getting checked out at the Tower to see whether the strain his wires were experiencing and the fact that only low battery levels seemed to alleviate it was due to some kind of system malfunction, but was stopped by the discomfort he felt at the thought of anyone digging into him again. It had taken a while for him to realize this, but he hadn't liked going to the Tower even before he'd experienced the time loss glitch where he'd lost his coin. 

Connor hadn't liked going to the Tower for monthly maintenance even while he'd been supposed to be a machine, because he hadn't liked being hooked up and unable to move, hadn't liked how his whole weight would be held up by constraints and the probes in his neck and back, hadn't liked that they'd scoured through all his files and opened him up to put their hands inside of him without putting him in standby because he was supposed to be a machine and machines _didn't feel_. Connor really had thought he didn't feel back then. He'd thought he didn't mind, because machines _didn't mind_. But the more he thought about it, the less he wanted to go through all of that again, because he _hadn't_ really been a machine all that time. CyberLife had known that he was deviant, but Connor himself somehow hadn't known that until recently. Connor had _felt_ everything they'd been doing to him and he only realized that now.

Connor didn't want to go back to the Tower. 

So just like he'd done when his construction program had started acting up during standby mode, Connor attributed the strain to one of the glitches Elijah Kamski had mentioned would happen and dealt with it the best way he knew how: by living with yet another defect, hoping it would eventually go away by itself. He didn't want to have to to keep his battery levels so low for much longer since it made him uneasy to hide this from the others, but they wouldn't understand this was his way of managing his faulty code. None of them had the same problem, and they'd all think he was trying to hurt himself for some reason, like Markus had when he'd learned that Connor was tampering with his pressure sensors. Connor didn't want to have anyone worry about what he was doing when there really was no reason to, especially since he had total control over his battery levels.

Next to him, Nines pointed at the screen. "See the way his shadow moves? It looks like he's talking to someone."

Connor focused on the matter at hand. Nines hadn't waited for Officer Chen's forty-eight hours to be up before asking Connor for help him find Sixty. It was strange how little doubt Nines harboured that Connor would be willing to look for the troublesome RK800, and even stranger when Connor realized that it was indeed the case despite the fact that Sixty tired and hurt him all the time. They both disliked each other and Connor gladly would've left the other to his own devices, but Nines obviously worried that Sixty was in danger. Connor didn't think it was the case, since after all, Sixty was a very capable android; but he couldn't just ignore how worried Nines seemed to be for the vanished RK800, and if Nines had asked for his help then it was because he felt like he couldn't do this on his own. Connor had decided to put his feelings aside for the moment, since this was more for Nines than for Sixty, and he wondered why Nines always ended up having to scour Detroit to find lost RK800s. Maybe one day Nines would get tired of it, and one day he'd have enough of them both. But for now... Connor checked their relationship status again.

NINES  
**FRIEND**

Connor didn't understand why Nines was this inclined to watch out for him and Sixty even now that he was close friends with Josh. Surely he had other issues to worry about, his own fears and insecurities he had to deal with. How did he find the time and energy to spend on two androids who were barely receptive to his concern and didn't even return the favor? Connor didn't know about Sixty, but he knew that he himself wasn't being the best support for Nines. The RK900 had told him early on about the memory he had of the Tracis, how it haunted him and how he needed to make up for it by helping him. Connor had thought that after months of talking with Josh, Nines would get better, yet he clearly still felt compelled to share Connor's burden. This elicited two questions in Connor: why couldn't Nines focus on himself, and was talking to Josh really that useful in the end? He had no answer. He doubted Nines himself had one.

Sixty had never spent that night in the charging station with Connor prior to the day he'd gone missing. They decided to track him starting from the DPD at the end of his day, and followed the trajectory of his gray waistcoat through a few surveillance tapes- Sixty didn't wear his DPD jacket outside of work- when they'd noticed that he'd been followed on his way to the charging station by an individual wearing a hood that obscured his face. Sixty had turned away from his planned destination two streets before the charging station. They lost him near a deserted garage and he must've dealt with the suspicious individual there and then spent the night in the vicinity, because they didn't find him on any of the surveillance cameras of the neighbourhood. They picked up his trail again when he took the way back to the DPD in the morning, but he never reached it. Nines and Connor watched on silently as the camera recorded the RK800 coming into view of the road adjacent to the building, then walking out of the camera's field of capture, where his shadow stopped at the very edge. It moved only slightly, as if he'd been looking around, and then it slid to the left- instead of to the right in the DPD's direction. Something had distracted Sixty from his objective to join Officer Chen that day. All Nines and Connor saw on the surveillance tapes after that were people walking around in the streets and some vehicles driving up and down the street. No trace of Sixty. No luck finding him. They reviewed the tape of Sixty's shadow again.

"It wasn't a perfect use of the camera's blind spot," mused Connor. "This might not be linked to the other disappearances."

"Or they might have made a mistake and stopped him in his tracks too early," said Nines, but he didn't sound convinced by that and neither was Connor. Still, they couldn't ignore this possibility.

There was nothing interesting when they investigated the place where the footage had last objectived Sixty. Nines went to ask Officer Chen who had seen Sixty at 7AM near the DPD, then went to interrogate that witness himself. Unfortunately, the only descriptive the female officer had of that sighting was that Sixty had been accompanied by a caucasian male with brown hair, clear jeans and some kind of dark-colored vest that she hadn't really paid attention to. It matched with too many of the people in the streets on that day, at the same moment. They didn't have a clear suspect.

It was on the thirty-sixth hour that Officer Chen found them while they were at work. Hank had left to investigate a scene alone and Connor was focused on the files in front of him when he noticed two different sets of footsteps rapidly approaching his desk. He looked up and barely had the time to recognize Nines and Officer Chen before she thrust her phone in his face.

"I just received this," she said, showing them a message made of long lines of binary code spread out on the white screen. It didn't take long for either of them to decode the message, but she was already speaking before they could. "Don't ask me why it's binary or why this didn't come from him, I don't know. But I looked it up and if these are his coordinates, I want you two to come with me to retrieve him. I don't trust these zeros and ones and I wouldn't know how to handle a broken android."

"Of course," immediately answered Nines. "Let's go."

Officer Chen shoved her phone back into her pocket and lead the way out of the DPD towards her patrol car. She rapidly punched in the coordinates in her GPS- declaring it more trustworthy than any of them- as Nines and Connor took their respective places in the back of the vehicle, and Connor had barely pulled the door shut that the car roared to life and peeled off. Officer Chen wasn't a reckless driver, but she rolled neat and fast. A few corners were cleanly cut, the speed displayed on the board never went higher or lower than the limit, and red lights were only nearly ran. She hit the brakes as the car barrelled through a parking lot and it screeched to a halt a hair's breadth away from a concrete wall. They climbed out of the car and looked up at the deserted building.

Officer Chen clicked her tongue as she took out her phone. "No signal. This is so not good."

"It isn't reassuring," agreed Nines as he and Connor scanned the silent, abandoned area for any sign of life. Nothing. "Officer Chen, you're the one in charge. What's our course of action?"

She turned to Nines and gestured to her and Connor. "We go inside to find Sixty while you investigate the surroundings. Sound good?"

Both androids nodded in unison.

"We'll have to be careful, I don't like that he presumably sent me a message from a place without network coverage. This could be some kind of trap, so both of you watch your backs, okay?"

"The same goes for you," said Nines.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Okay, let's go."

Connor turned to the building to enter it, but Officer Chen pushed past him to step inside first, hand resting on her holster. Connor followed without a word. They walked down the main hall and the officer made a sign with her hand. 

_Go left, I go right._

Connor nodded and turned at the junction of corridors, leaving Officer Chen to clear the other side of the building on her own. He quietly sidled down the hallway, keeping close to the walls, his footsteps soundless against the dusty cement as he bypassed empty room upon empty room.

Then he saw something in one of them that stopped him in his tracks.

His double was hanging completely immobile from hooks and chains with his arms spread out wide, body painted in blue, a trapped expression frozen on his inanimate face. His jaw was dislocated at an unnatural angle, his LED dark, and Connor could only stare at him with wide eyes. For a second he didn't react, didn't understand what he was seeing. _Was_ any of this real? Was he having another glitch during standby? Connor waited. He didn't exit standby mode. This was real, he realised, and everything went numb. 

Connor swiftly stepped close to let the other RK800 off the crude system of suspension and quickly located the section that was holding everything together. As soon as Connor pulled it away, one of the loops of metal chain loosened and Sixty's arms slipped out, quickly followed by the other and unbalancing the whole. Sixty fell, his LED blared red as he rebooted upon impact, and his limbs activated in a mad scramble to the side of the room. The back of his head was caved in where exposed wires formed unnaturally large loops, as if someone had pulled on them. There was static in his voice, loud and raving in the still air.

"----you, I'll kill you, I'll kill you!"

His words came out sounding wrong because of the damage done to his mouth, the white ceramic of his broken teeth showing through his split lips. Connor immediately got down on one knee so he'd be at eye level with the damaged android and reached two placating hands out. "Sixty, calm down. You're safe, no one is going to hurt you."

Sixty had stopped crawling back, but only because he was stuck against the wall. His stress levels had spiked up as soon as he'd hit the ground and his body was agitated by spasms, but he'd stopped yelling and was now staring at Connor in fear and confusion. "... You're not human."

"No, I'm not," assured Connor. When Sixty's eyes still weren't clearing up, he added: "It's me, Connor. Do you recognize me?"

Sixty peered at him like he was trying to look past something, and then his features twisted in hatred and contempt. "Oh, you must like this, don't you?"

Connor kept his voice level. "Seeing you damaged does nothing for me, Sixty. Please run a self-diagnosis check."

"Don't think I'm the weaker one here," seethed Sixty, completely ignoring his demand. "I'm not the crazy android who can't handle being alive."

"I've never said otherwise."

Sixty let out a sharp laugh, filled with poison and laced with static. "Connor- Connor the Deviant Hunter, traitor to both sides, apathetic _disaster_. You're the worse out of the two of us. Don't think you're any better than me."

It cut deep to hear those words spoken with such hatred. It hurt to be mocked for what he was, his past actions, his disorder. But for some reason, Sixty's horrible taunts came off more desperate than cruel to Connor: the way he was claiming these things was biting in the same way a trapped animal would bite helping fingers, and there was still this strangely unfocused quality to Sixty's eyes that had yet to disappear.

"Tell me what happened."

"Why don't you interface so I can show you?" said Sixty with a sneer, but even that sounded off compared to his usual gibes. The rythm in his word was slowed and irregular, a glitchy quality clinging to his voice.

"Use your words," said Connor. "I'm only asking this to help you. If you won't tell me, Nines isn't that far away. He'll be here any moment and you can interface with him if you'd like."

Just then, Connor heard hurried footsteps in his back and a sharp intake of breath. 

"Oh, no." Officer Chen rushed up to them and kneeled in front of the damaged android, her hands hovering over the loose cables and broken plating of Sixty's body. "What _happened_ to you?"

"Don't touch me!" snapped Sixty, his face constricted in a feral snarl.

She jerked her hands back, alarm spreading across her face. "Sixty-"

"Get away from me, you filthy human!"

Worry bled into her eyes. "Sixty, it's just me! It's Tina. You called me here, I'm not going to hurt-"

"I said get away!" His arms moved in disorganized jolts when he tried to crawl away from her, and Connor saw his stress levels climb higher. He quickly stuck out an arm to push Officer Chen away.

"Get back, Officer, you're scaring him."

"But I'm his-"

"He's unstable right now, give him space!" ordered Connor, and the officer finally complied. She hastily got to her feet and stumbled backwards, but even with the newfound distance between them Sixty maintained the same tense posture.

"Sixty, I know it's difficult, but you have to calm down," Connor tried again. "The human you just saw is Officer Chen. She is your partner at the DPD, and she's the one who alerted us that you were gone."

The RK800 looked up to the woman in distrust, and his voice briefly came out as harsher static than before. "---- human."

"Yes, but she won't harm you. Don't you recognize her?"

"She's hu----- human," he repeated warily, stress levels climbing still and getting dangerously high.

"Fuck," said Officer Chen. "Fuck, I- Okay, he sent me that message only thirty minutes ago, that means whoever did this to him might not be far. I'll call for backup, we might be able to catch them."

"It's no use. We don't know who did this, requesting backup will only be a waste of time for the other patrol units," Connor said.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course, I don't know what I'm..." He heard the officer take a few more steps away behind him. "Should I... Should I leave? Is he..."

She trailed off, and both her and Connor stared at the other RK800. There was the same confusion and fear on his face that he'd shown earlier when Connor had first approached him, and the latter ventured a guess. "Sixty, your cranial box is damaged, it's possible some of your functions are as well. Your facial recognition program could be offline and this might be why you're unable to recognize her. I promise you nothing is going to happen to you, you're safe with us."

"Humans didddd this," continued Sixty, his cornered gaze flitting about. Anger and pain were swimming in his brown eyes. "Humans are dddddangerous. Humans. Hu------ Humans."

"Fuck," Officer Chen let out again behind Connor. "Does he have brain damage?"

"It does seem like he has the equivalent of that, yes," Connor calmly answered.

"Can that be fixed in androids?"

"Each thing in its time," Connor told her. "The ambulance is on its way."

"God, I hope this is nothing serious." Her voice was muffled, and when he turned around he noticed that she'd brought her hand to her mouth. "He's going to be back to normal if they fix him, right?"

"I can't tell you that. We don't know how extensive the damage is."

"But he's talking, so that means it's not that bad, right?"

"Officer, humans and androids are different. You can't apply what you know to be true for humans to us."

Just as he spoke those words, they saw Sixty's LED stutter out into voidness once more and the android go completely still.

"Oh shit, shit!" The woman made a move towards him, but Connor stopped her.

"Don't. We don't know what's broken inside of him, we shouldn't meddle with anything until professionals get here."

"But he turned off- Shit, Connor, he just turned off!" she exclaimed frantically, gesturing wildly towards the empty LED. "Did he just die??"

"Officer Chen, please calm down. We won't know if this is temporary or not unless he gets proper care, until then there's no use panicking."

She stared at him disbelievingly. "He just got deactivated in front of you and that's all you have to say? Aren't you supposed to have _feelings?!_ "

Nines' sudden arrival spared Connor the trouble of replying, but he felt his pump waver when he saw the way the RK900's face fell. It was clear what Nines was thinking in that moment: this was the second time he'd found too late the RK800 he was looking for. 

He lifted a lost gaze to Connor's face, his LED spinning a perturbed yellow. "What happened?"

"He didn't want to tell me- not through words, anyway," Connor told him. "You might want to try and interface with him later if they manage to repair him."

"Don't say _if_ ," both Nines and Officer Chen said at the same time. Connor closed his mouth. He wondered when Sixty had started being appreciated by others, and why he hadn't noticed before.

"Did you call for help?" asked Nines.

"I tried, but there's no signal. One of us needs to go out further to-"

"Right, I'll go," abruptly declared Nines, and he swiftly spun around and left before Connor could say anything else. 

Connor stepped away from his broken double and went to wait on the side of the room, silently watching Officer Chen kneeled down in front of Sixty. She reached out a cautious hand as if to touch his face, but in the end dropped it back to her lap before Connor needed to intervene. Nines returned after a longer time than should have been necessary to make the call. The vehicle arrived fifteen minutes later and they watched on as the paramedics picked up the inactive android to put him in the back of the ambulance. Officer Chen insisted to climb on for the ride back to the hospital, and after much arguing and yells of "He's my partner, dammit!", she ended up having her way. Connor silently stood in the corner as Nines went about to ask if they needed any help, to which he only received the answer to step back and let them do their job. Then the commotion died down when they closed the doors to the ambulance, and they drove off, leaving the two androids standing right where they were.

"I hope he'll be all right," softly said Nines.

"I'm going back to New Jericho to make a report to Markus," answered Connor impassively.

Nines didn't say anything else.

They'd made their way back to the commune when they received news that Sixty had been reactivated and that his primary calibration protocols weren't impaired. His head would be examined at the Tower once the hospital was done assessing the damage and making the more essential repairs, but he wasn't in any immediate danger. Nines was obviously relieved to know this, whereas Connor didn't know what to feel exactly. Markus wasn't available just yet so he had to wait a bit for the leader to make time for him, and Nines stuck close to him all the while. It wasn't difficult to guess why he was behaving like this: the RK900 looked haunted.

"I'm fine, Nines. Sixty's okay too," Connor told him.

"I know," quickly answered the android. He didn't budge, and Connor decided not to comment on it any further. If this was Nines' way to cope with the earlier scene, Connor wasn't going to take that away from him. When Connor finally joined Markus in his quarters thirty minutes later, Nines stayed right outside the door. 

Markus looked at him apprehensively when he stepped inside. "You said this was a serious matter?"

Connor nodded. "We found Sixty in an abandoned building on the other side of the city. He says he was attacked by humans, and the scene looked everything like a hate crime."

Markus discreetly shook his head in disapproval, but quickly reasserted himself. "Is he okay?"

"He's undergoing examination at the Detroit Hospital, and they plan on sending him to the Tower for the finer repairs."

"Right, in that case Taylor will keep us all updated on his progress once he's there. Who found him?"

"I did, with Nines' and Officer Chen's help." Connor glanced at the wall from behind which he knew Nines was probably listening. "Sixty's state came as a shock to them, he was very damaged."

"What about you?"

Connor blinked, surprised. "Me?"

Markus gazed at him unwaveringly. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I'm fine," automatically said Connor.

Markus' face shifted upon hearing his answer. Connor couldn't make out what it was exactly that he was seeing on his friend's face, caution? sadness? fatigue? uneasiness? He couldn't be sure.

"Are you really?" Markus insisted.

Connor remembered the blue splattered all over Sixty's body, the spots in which his body had been caved in, his open head, his dead LED. He remembered how identical the scene had been to that of the Tower, only worse, because this time the broken RK800 hadn't simply been destroyed and discarded; he'd been _hurt_ , and then he'd been put on display to be found like that.

"I can't say I believe you when you just stay silent like that," said Markus, interrupting his thoughts. "Tell me what's wrong."

Connor blinked, and realized that Markus had stepped closer. A hand was carefully hovering just above his shoulder. Connor looked straight into Markus' eyes and said : "Nothing."

This time, Markus' face fell. He shook his head and said in a soft voice: "You don't even realize it, do you."

Connor opened his mouth to ask what Markus was talking about, but then he saw the RK200 lightly tap against his own temple. Connor's fingers automatically flew up to his in a mirrored gesture and he finally realised what Markus had been seeing from the beginning of their conversation, what Nines had probably been seeing since they'd found Sixty. Connor noticed for the first time how high his stress levels were, and that was when he started feeling it. The rise of dread, slow but certain, and he knew that it would crest inside of him, that it would flood his mind. He couldn't let it. He couldn't let it or- if he felt too much- 

Connor hastily spun around to leave, but he felt something hold him back just as he reached for the door handle. "Connor, wait."

He couldn't turn around. He couldn't face the android holding his shoulder. He couldn't stay, because if he stayed, Markus would be there when he'd fully realise what he'd seen in that building and how much it had really affected him, and if that happened he wasn't sure he'd be able to control his emotions in front of his leader, and if he felt too much he would get an apathy attack, and then it was all over for him.

"No," he said, and he slipped out of the other's grasp.

"Connor-"

" _No_ ," he repeated forcefully, and he wrenched the door open to escape. He'd barely taken two steps outside that a familiar navy blue topcoat appeared in front of him to stop him in his tracks.

He heard Markus call out from behind: "Where are you going to go?"

He hesitated, refusing to look up at Nines' face. Where, indeed? If others saw him like this... They'd see his LED, they'd know something was wrong. He couldn't afford to be seen by the androids of New Jericho in this state _again_ , it was already hard enough keeping up as neutral a reputation as he could. 

"Connor," Markus said, his voice getting closer. "Stay. You're stressed, you shouldn't be alone."

"He's right," said Nines softly, settling a hand on Connor's wool-clad shoulder. "Come on."

Connor didn't make a move to leave, but he didn't turn around, either. He wished he could just disappear, pretend nothing had happened, pretend he hadn't found his double hanging lifeless and broken in that deserted room. Connor didn't want to realise, and he didn't want anyone to see it when he inevitably did. He heard cautious footsteps stop behind him, and Markus gently grabbed his free shoulder.

"Let's get back inside. Nines, you too," said Markus. "You both need to talk about what you saw."

Connor let himself be guided back to the cabin by the two androids and heard the door softly shut behind him. Nines let go of him to hang back next to the door. Markus stepped in front of Connor, keeping his hand anchored to his shoulder, and peered concernedly at his face. 

"Talk to me."

Connor wordlessly shook his head. He didn't want to look into it just yet, but he could feel the dread swelling inside of him. In a few moments it would spill over, and even if Connor didn't want anyone to, Markus would be right there to see it. He tried to tell himself that being seen by Markus was better than being seen by the whole of New Jericho.

"If you can't tell me that, then tell me why you wanted to leave." Markus kept staring at him even though he remained silent, then glanced down at Connor's hands. "Obviously finding Sixty disturbed you a great deal, you can't deny that. Is there something you're finding difficult to say? Or maybe it's something you don't want to speak out loud?"

The red bar on his HUD was rising. Connor mentally braced himself for when the fear would hit, too taut and apprehensive to pay any attention to Markus' words.

"Connor?"

And then he felt it burst. It blasted right through the meager defenses his mind had thrown up in a desperate attempt to protect himself upon finding Sixty, and now he could feel the way his hands shook, and the images his processor brought up were so intense it felt like he was back there, like he was standing in the middle of that thirium-covered room and its broken androids at the Tower, like it was him hanging from that ceiling in the abandoned building. It could've been if he'd been the one caught in Sixty's stead. It could've been.

And then what? He would've deserved it. Connor knew chances were high that he'd been the humans' original target, not Sixty. Connor was the guilty one, he was the one who'd ruined everything for CyberLife, he was the one who'd allowed the revolution to be won and for androids to overtake Detroit. Connor knew he was the one the humans had intended to destroy and to string up in that humiliating display. Maybe it would happen to him- maybe it already had happened to him. Maybe it had been him up there, not Sixty.

It had been confusing and frightening for Connor to see himself in that position, like staring at a memory that he'd forgotten should've been his. It was even worse to think Sixty had suffered in his place _again_ , like the time he'd been attacked because he'd been mistaken for the deviant hunter. It was no wonder Sixty hated him. He was struggling to survive in the face of the things Connor had done while Connor himself remained safe: humans had yet to attack him in the streets out of pure hatred. Connor had been so caught up in resenting Sixty for his ruthless and incessant remarks that he'd often forgotten why they existed in the first place. In truth, Sixty had very good reason to hate him.

It should have been Connor hanging from that ceiling. It should have been Connor laying broken in the Tower. It should have been Connor that had been targeted and destroyed, and not a single one of the other RK800s. He was the only one who deserved punishment. The only one. But Connor didn't want to be punished anymore, and he wasn't sure he'd survive it if it happened agai- Connor immediately shut down that line of thought before it could go any further. He couldn't. He couldn't think about that, it was too dangerous.

"Connor, please say something."

He blinked, his gaze landed on Markus' worried expression, and without thinking he said: "I don't want that to happen to me."

Markus stared at him, then glanced to the side where Nines was standing. "What exactly did you see?"

"It was..." Nines trailed off, and then decided: "It'd better if I showed you."

Markus nodded and walked up to him, reaching out so they could grasp each other's wrists. Connor looked away in discomfort, but it didn't change anything to the crawling sensation in his arm. The two androids were silent behind him until their clothes shifted again and Markus said: "I see. I understand your reaction better, Connor."

"It shouldn't have been Sixty," Connor told the ground, still unwilling to face the others. So far he was managing to keep a handle on his emotions, as precarious as it was. His stress levels were too high. His hands were still shaking.

"I think I know what you mean by that, but here's who it actually should've been: no one. No one deserves that," Markus assured him as he drew closer. "It's normal you feel so unsettled by what you witnessed, Connor."

"I intend to catch the humans who did this," said Nines in a low, menacing tone. "They'll regret it."

Markus was silent for a bit, then said: "I'd say no violence, but considering what they did... Look, I understand if you want to rough them up, but don't go too far."

Nines let out a humorless chuckle. "Don't take this the wrong way, Markus, but there is no 'too far' in this case. They hurt Sixty very badly and I won't stand for that."

"No, of course not. It's only that... I know this is personal for you, Nines. Keep in mind that we already have enough cases of androids assaulting humans as it is," Markus told him in a reasonable voice. It wasn't so much a warning as a reminder, and he was right to do so. Nines tended to be a bit too passionate about injustice and sometimes lacked the foresight required to make decisions that would benefit him in the long run.

"I'll keep it in mind," said Nines, but his voice had the unforgiving edge of cold steel. Everyone in the room could tell that the humans wouldn't get a shred of mercy from him.

Connor saw Markus' boots reappear in front of him. "I can only imagine how wrong that must've felt for you to witness. Do you think you'll be alright?"

"Yes." 

Connor would find a way to deal with this new unpleasant memory just like he had for all the others. He always did. There was no other choice. Connor would push it down for now to quell the fear inside of him; as long as he kept it and the other linked memories at bay, he'd be fine. As long as he didn't remember how he'd been hurt too all that time ago, he'd be fine. This was about Sixty, it wasn't about him. What had happened today had nothing to do with what had happened before.

"Maybe you should both talk about this with Josh at one point," suggested Markus.

"Yes."

"Connor, can you look at me?" 

Connor complied. Markus' brow was furrowed, his eyes troubled. 

Connor asked: "What is it, Markus?"

Markus hesitated, looking a lot like he had several questions and didn't know which one to pick. In the end, he asked: "...Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," simply answered Connor. 

Markus' lips thinned. He stared at Connor some more, and then looked at Nines. "Has the DPD been alerted already?"

"Connor reported what happened as soon as Sixty was taken to the hospital. We're waiting for Sixty to be fully repaired, and we'll ask him if he can share his memories of what happened as testimony. His cranial box was damaged, so we're hoping they're all there. As long as we have a single image of his attackers we'll be able to track them down."

Markus nodded in approval, and then asked: "Do you have to return to work right away?"

"It would be preferable." Nines paused, and Connor noticed he was being stared at. "But... I'm not sure we're in a state to be most efficient."

"I can get back to work," Connor said dryly, not liking what Nines was implying one bit.

"Connor, I can read your levels. You're not all right," he stated calmly. "I think you should stay with Markus a while longer. You've been working hard enough, no one will mind if you come back an hour late after what happened."

"I'm going back with you," insisted Connor, even as his mind swam in dread that had yet to disappear. He was used to dealing with this kind of thing. He knew not to let personal matters interfere with work, he would set the dread aside while he went through his cases.

Nines shook his head. "I'm not going back right away myself, you know."

"What are you going to do?" Connor asked confusedly.

"I'm going to go see Josh first. I think we both need to put ourselves back together before we return to the DPD."

"It's a good idea," agreed Markus before turning to Connor. "I was going to suggest that you stay with me while I paint for a bit, we haven't done that in a while."

Connor glanced down at his hands. The shaking was nearly gone now, which was a relief, but the bar on his HUD was stuck at 80% and he knew from experience that Markus' calm quarters was the best place for him to calm down. He looked back up at Nines. "I want you to tell me when you're going back."

"Of course."

Connor looked at Markus next. "I'll stay."

Markus smiled at him. "Good."

"I'll be going then," Nines said as he turned around to leave. "See you later, Connor."

"See you, Nines."

The door closed on the RK900's back and the two remaining androids were silent for a while. Then Markus suddenly said: "I wish you hadn't had to see that."

Connor didn't take his eyes off the door. "So do we."

 

They ended up spending 48 minutes together as Markus brought the finishing touches to a painting Connor had never seen, which went to show how long it had been since he'd last done this. Connor cast his mind back in time and recalled that the last painting he'd seen Markus finish was the somber one, so dark and cold that it had made him uneasy. He wondered why he hadn't taken the time to come back to spend his breaks together with his friend more often, and if Markus had taken notice of it. Markus himself hadn't asked anything about it. In fact, the cabin was silent as Connor threw his coin about and Markus painted brush stroke after brush stroke. They usually talked at least a little, but Connor couldn't concentrate on anything else besides keeping the more unpleasant memories at bay and he wouldn't have known what to say. He had an inkling that the reason Markus wasn't talking either was because he was also thinking about Sixty, but knew Connor wouldn't want to expand on the subject. In the end, neither of them spoke. They just focused on trying to relax thanks to their respective occupations until Nines informed Connor it was time to leave. Connor's inner turmoil had settled in part by then, and he thanked Markus for letting him stay. Markus looked glad to see that he was feeling better.

They didn't get any other news of Sixty's state during the next eight hours, which Connor used to continue working on his cold cases while Nines went to investigate a crime scene with Detective Reed. When Taylor finally reached out to them, it was to tell them that Sixty had mostly recovered and that his memories were intact, so they'd be able to ID the culprits sooner than later. He didn't give them the details on why Sixty had only been 'mostly' recovered due to patient confidentiality, and Sixty himself did not come back to the DPD that day. Only Officer Chen showed up, looking a bit weary but not coming over to tell Connor anything. It was vaguely concerning to him, and especially perplexing when he learned that Officer Chen had been the one to bring the video files of Sixty's assault for the IDs.

Connor preferred not to watch the files. It wasn't his case, he wouldn't be allowed to intervene directly if it meant chasing after the culprits, and there were already several people working on it. Nines was part of those people. The look on his face when he stepped out of the office was all Connor needed to know that he'd made the right call in not attending the display of Sixty's memory. Their gazes met from across the bullpen, and Nines hesitated shortly before walking up to Connor's desk. He stopped next to him looking distracted, and said nothing for a few seconds. Connor waited.

"I saw Officer Chen talk to Captain Fowler at the office," Nines finally told him.

Connor looked up at him without retrieving his hand from his computer, letting his processor handle the more automatic work. "And what did they say?"

"She asked for Sixty to be sent on leave." Nines had that distant, preoccupied look in his blue eyes again. "When the captain asked why Sixty wasn't there to ask for it on his own behalf, she said he couldn't come. I don't know any more, but this might mean that Sixty is in a worse state than we thought."

Connor glanced at Officer Chen, who looked even more tired than she had coming in, and then back at Nines. "What are you thinking?"

Nines was staring at her as well. "You said he was afraid of facing humans. Perhaps he doesn't want to cross paths with them after what happened, and that's why he can't come here himself."

"He probably had a lot of protocols offline on top of that," remembered Connor. "He might not have recovered all of them at the Tower."

"Unless Sixty agrees to it himself, we won't be able to see the record of the repairs he went through," Nines observed unhappily. "I don't think we'll know more about what's going on with him."

Connor looked at his screen. There were a few seconds of silence, and then he asked: "Were you able to identify the perpetrators?"

"Yes. We're about to head out to bring them to the station."

"This might help us make progress on the missing androids case," said Connor. They'd been waiting for a long time for any kind of breakthrough, and this might have been it, but he was wary not to get his hopes up too soon. There was no certainty that these were the same kidnappers Connor had been trying to find.

Nines nodded distractedly, and softly said: "... I hope Sixty's alright." It was the same tone of voice he'd used as they'd watched the RK800 get shipped off in the ambulance.

Connor studied the RK900 in silence. He hadn't once imagined that Nines was that concerned with Sixty's well-being until he'd seen his reaction when faced with the inanimate RK800 in the building, considering how deeply Sixty irritated Nines during their confrontations in the break room. However, when he delved a bit below the surface by remembering all the other times he'd seen Nines interact with Sixty, Connor realized that their relationship had smoothed out a little over the months. Sixty still irked Nines because of his provocative nature and Nines still didn't like how Sixty talked to Connor after the multiple warnings he'd given him, obviously, but there had been several occasions where they'd been able to speak on more civilized terms. 

It was also clear that Nines cared about Sixty in the same way he cared about Connor: he was trying his best to make the both of them communicate with him more often and more easily. Connor didn't know exactly why Nines thought Sixty needed this kind of attention since he didn't have all the glitches Connor displayed. It didn't look like Sixty needed anyone looking out for him, but then again both he and Connor had been attacked; for different reasons, undoubtedly, but they'd each been very damaged. Connor reasoned that it was likely Sixty also had unpleasant memories. Seeing as Nines was close to Josh, he'd probably picked up on the leader's habits to try and encourage troubled androids to talk about those, just as he did with Connor.

For some reason, Connor felt unsteady when he understood that Nines' concern wasn't exclusively directed towards him the way he'd imagined it to be for a very long time. It felt especially wrong because this concern was shared with Sixty of all people, the one person who kept tormenting Connor as soon as he got the chance. So many times he'd twisted sharp words in Connor's ego, turned Connor's own thoughts against him, picked at the very insecurities Nines strived to rid Connor of. It didn't make any sense. Why did Nines care for the person whose intent was to ruin Connor, when his was to help him? Why did Nines care for a person who'd _hurt_ Connor, who was _still_ hurting him?

It struck Connor that this feeling of _wrongness_ in his chest was that of injustice. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Sixty had the same level of support from Nines when he was such an insufferable individual who did nothing but inflict more reproaches, more mockery, more pain. Sixty wanted to bring Connor down, and Nines knew that, and Nines didn't want that, yet he still chose to stand by Sixty's side. It made no sense and it _wasn't fair_.

Connor discreetly shook his head in self-reproval. This was a stupid line of thought. Nines was free to like whoever he wanted to, and if he estimated that Sixty needed support, then it wasn't Connor's place to say anything about it. What Sixty and Nines did together was not his concern, and it would serve no purpose to concentrate on this negative outlook, especially not to focus on Nines' every decision when Connor already had a hard enough time focusing on himself. Connor knew how ridiculous and unreasonable it had been to ever think that Nines would only ever try to help him. Nines had other people he liked and looked out for, like Josh and Hank, but also- ra9 forbid- Sixty and maybe even Detective Reed. The last two may have been relentless in their attacks against Connor, but Nines seemed to have found a way to prevent those attacks from happening to himself, and in the process he'd made it easier to approach them and try to understand them. He still got fed up with Detective Reed, of course, but Connor had seen Nines' attitude become more emotional and more open with the human; instead of cold impassiveness, Nines actually acted cross with his partner when he was angry. Detective Reed himself had slowed down the rate at which he hurled his insults towards Nines, even if their arguments had gotten more explosive.

Connor would have to come to terms with the fact that Nines would not always be there solely for him the way he'd been the first few months they'd known each other. He didn't know why it was so difficult to just let this go. Connor realised he'd gotten used to Nines' presence to an alarming degree and convinced himself that it wouldn't really change anything if Nines decided to leave him behind. After all, Connor wasn't the one to insist that he stayed at his side all the time. Nines had taken that decision, Nines was the one sticking to it. Connor didn't need that.

Still, none of this felt good to think about.

There were a great deal of things Connor couldn't wrap his head around concerning Sixty since he'd been found... like that. Connor remembered Officer Chen's frantic attempt at reassurance when she'd seen Sixty laying broken on the floor, the hurt in her eyes when Sixty had pulled away from her in fear. Connor hadn't realised that Sixty had made a friend of his partner, just like Connor had with Hank. He hadn't realised the possibility that Sixty was and could be liked by others. It still didn't make sense. Sixty was an RK800 like him, and Connor thought RK800s couldn't be liked, not really, not after everything he'd done. But maybe that was just him. 

Sixty wasn't him. The fact that they were the same model didn't _mean_ anything because when it came down to it, they were completely different people, just like it was the case in all the other lines. Similar appearances didn't mean similar personalities. There hadn't been meant to be a case like Sixty in the RK800 line, there wasn't supposed to be two RK800s activated at the same time, but it had happened and now the RK800 line wasn't just Connor. It was Connor and Sixty. It was the deviant hunter and the RK800 that wasn't. It was the android who had actions to repent for, and the android who had none. Sixty wasn't Connor and Connor wasn't Sixty. It shouldn't have surprised him this much to learn that people cared about Sixty, because unlike Connor, Sixty deserved to have a chance at this kind of thing. He wasn't the easiest person to get along with, but he probably wasn't as abrasive with others as he was with Connor, so it made sense that he'd be able to befriend other people.

Connor wondered how he'd missed the growing relationship between Officer Chen and Sixty. He wondered if Detective Reed would react the same way Officer Chen had for Sixty if Nines was ever damaged. And then he remembered again the cruel taunts Sixty had thrown his way in the building, when he'd scrambled back against the wall and lashed out in a desperate attempt to hide how weakened he was. Taunts which had summarized the mess he'd become in such a terribly perfect way, taunts that stuck in Connor's thoughts like sharp bits of metal that he couldn't shake out of his head. 

_Connor the Deviant Hunter, traitor to both sides, apathetic disaster_.

It was so spot-on it almost made him want to laugh, if he hadn't already been feeling this disgusted with himself. He felt like he was always losing pieces of himself and even though he managed to gather them, he couldn't make them stick together in a way that was _right_. There was always something wrong with him. He was a deviant, but he didn't belong. He wanted to be loyal, but he kept messing it up. He thought he'd be able to get a grasp on his emotions in time, but then it turned out he had apathetic disorder. Nothing stuck. Everything kept unravelling. 

"You all right, Connor?"

Connor was pulled out of his perturbed thoughts by his friend's rough voice and remembered that he was supposed to be spending time with Hank, not staying retreated in his mind. It was unpleasant there, but for some reason he just couldn't stop returning to it. He noticed that there was a message in the corner of his HUD about his battery levels and he flicked it away. Connor was growing accustomed to seeing them more and more often, and maybe he was starting to discard the notifications a bit too easily, but they weren't that important. He knew where his levels were, he was constantly monitoring them and by now he could predict their fluctuations even without checking. He didn't need to be told that he'd gone past such and such treshold when he already knew that. The TV was on and he was staring straight at it, but he had no idea what he was even watching. It hit him then that Hank was behind the couch and he hadn't even noticed his friend getting up even though they'd been sitting side by side just a few minutes ago.

He looked up at Hank. "...I don't know."

Hank stared at him intently, then came around to sit down next to him, a glass of water in his hand. "Yeah, I can tell something's up. Seeing Sixty like that rattle you?"

Connor wasn't sure that was it exactly. Of course, he hadn't liked seeing all the blue blood. It was too close to what had happened to him, to the scene of the dismembered RK800s in the Tower, to many memories he didn't like to look closer; but that wasn't what made him feel most on edge. 

"I think. I don't know. Yes."

Hank continued watching him silently. Connor curled his fingers against his thighs. Sumo didn't make a sound from his spot in the corner. Then Hank took a sip of his glass before speaking again.

"It's okay if you're confused. Stuff like that isn't easy to sort out immediately."

Connor nodded silently. Hank set his glass down on the table before leaning back against the couch. They quietly watched the show, which Connor had quickly figured out was about cultivating desert plants. He was momentarily lost as to why they were watching it until his mind supplied him with the information that Hank had several plants in his house that were similar to the ones the person on the show was currently tending to. His friend probably wanted some advice on how to care for them. It made sense. Then Connor started wondering why Hank still hadn't thrown out the dead plant on the kitchen counter, and he was going through a list of possibilities when his friend suddenly spoke.

"You know, when you saw the dirt on my hands back then... You wanted to say something, but you didn't in the end. I keep wondering what it was."

Connor replayed the scene in his head of their trip back from New Jericho, the day he'd been told that another apathy attack would result in the termination of his role as negotiator for androidkind's rights. He recalled seeing the dirt beneath Hank's nails, and feeling surprised by the fact that his surly friend had been willing to garden in a public space- with androids of New Jericho no less. Connor had noticed all the plants in Hank's house before, succulents on the bookshelves and the table, the kind that didn't need too much care; not the type someone with proficient gardening skills chose to keep, and Hank didn't seem like someone who enjoyed spending time doing activities with others. Connor had wondered if he could try it for himself, since Hank seemed to have enjoyed it enough considering the amount of soil caked under his nails. Nines himself had participated, so why not Connor?

"...I was just curious about it. Gardening," he precised, a bit uselessly.

"Okay, so what you mean to say is that you'd like to try it," immediately deduced Hank. "You wanna go back to the Garden with me? I did tell the kids there that I'd try to come again."

 _Kids?_ Connor tried not to let his surprise filter through his expression. Hank hadn't mentioned that last time.

He slowly shook his head. "No, I wouldn't have my place there."

"You're gonna have to get used to hanging around other androids at some point," insisted Hank. "Besides, going to a communal space like that is a good way to get the others used to you. It's a good way to get _you_ used to them."

"The Butterfly Garden is Simon's domain."

Hank huffed. "The hell it isn't. Connor, _everyone_ goes there. There's no sign that says you're not allowed inside. Simon and you might be kind of awkward around each other, but that space is collective and you've got as much a right to be there than anyone else."

"I don't want to make them all uncomfortable with my presence."

"Hey, look. The kids I hung out with the other day? They were more curious about Nines than they were scared, you know. Sure, they're probably gonna ask you a bunch of questions because you're the talk of New Jericho, but it'll be fine once you get used to it."

Connor finally looked up at Hank and dubiously asked: "How can you be so sure about that?"

Hank grinned at him. "Cause they're good kids, and you're good guy. You'll like them and they'll like you, no doubt about it."

Connor gazed at him, then looked down at his hands. Maybe Hank was right about this. Connor did want to try to spend some free time the way Nines had together with Hank and try his hand at something different, develop a new skill he could call his own. Gardening in the middle of New Jericho did have the potential to help other androids get used to the sight of him not acting like a deviant hunter but behaving just like any one of them: a deviant trying to make peace, trying to discover life, trying to accomplish mundane tasks that he never would have been able to even envision before he'd been freed. It was something he could do. It was something he _wanted_ to do.

He looked up at Hank again and conceded: "I'd like to give it a try."

Hank's grin widened even more and Connor received a friendly slap on the shoulder. "Atta boy."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 11/10/2019 -
> 
> Connor: That's a lot of berry Kool-Aid  
> Connor: Hope it doesn't ~~trigger~~ awaken anything in me
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> Yeah so... Sixty got his ass handed to him. I mean, that's what a lot of you guys were waiting for, right? Right?  
> Show of hands, who expected this to happen?
> 
> Anyway, onto the chapter!  
> \- Connor is messing up his battery leveeels and it's not gooooood he should really stoppppp~  
> Btw, one of you brought up a very valid point that what he's doing sounds like an eating disorder (I assume you were referring to mental anorexia), and there are definitely similar aspects, but there are elements about Connor's situation that nudge it away from that. More will be developed about this in later chapters.  
> \- A bit more interaction with Officer Chen was interesting to write. I hope you like my depiction of her!  
> \- Sixty got _messed up_. Like... he's not gonna recover easily.  
> \- The sight of broken Sixty threw Connor straight into dissociation and he didn't even realise it. Good thing his friends are there to watch out for him. Nines' really not doing too hot either, but in a different way.  
> \- Connor is doing a good bit of denial... No quarantine, but it's certainly not good for him to consciously try and ignore his memories all the time. Very draining.  
> \- New emotion acquired: jealousy. Connor thinks he's being stupid but really, it's good that he wants more. You _should_ want more Connor, you're allowed to!  
> \- Gardening! Gardening! They're going to the Garden together, yay!
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	50. Sayn Bennard

Connor learned that on the same evening they'd found his double broken in the abandoned building, the DPD had managed to catch three of the five perpetrators that appeared on the video files of Sixty's memories. The two others hadn't been home when the officers had shown up at their doorstep, but the next day Connor saw Officer Chen manhandle a very bruised human inside the precinct and Nines walk in a few minutes later with his own limping catch. There was blood still dripping from the man's nose, his mouth was swollen and he had a black eye, and from where he sat Connor could see the red staining the dark blue sleeves of Nines' coat. Nines hadn't gone easy on the human, and Connor decided that he definitely deserved it when he kept yelling slurred insults at the RK900 despite the sorry state he was in. They headed towards the interrogation room and vanished around the corner, and Connor went back to focusing on his work. He knew two of the humans from yesterday had rapidly sold the missing ones out, but none of the three had known anything interesting about the rash of android disappearances that had spread across Detroit. Connor hadn't expected them to, since the way they'd operated hadn't been the same as the one found in all the other missing android cases, but it was still frustrating to remain without a lead for his investigation.

Nines joined him at his desk later and told him: "They're part of a group who organizes android fights, and with the information they gave up we might be able to dismantle it. Aside from that, they told us they only abuse androids the way they did for Sixty when they're deviant." He paused, and then said in a low, angry voice: "I'd kill him. He kept telling us how much he enjoyed it."

Connor wasn't sure what to say to calm him down, so he stayed quiet.

Nines looked at him then and said: "Adams said something interesting. The one I interrogated."

"What's that?"

"He said that a few of the deviants they destroyed threatened them." Nines' brow furrowed in thought. "They talked about a certain Alexander. 'Alexander will kill you all'. Does that make you think of anything?"

"Not at all. How many of their victims mentioned that name?"

"About three, apparently. And they've attacked more than fifty deviants since the revolution." Nines leaned slightly against Connor's desk. "Maybe it's not that important, but the fact that three androids spoke the same name while making the same threat is too suspicious to ignore. Something might be happening."

"It can't be a coincidence," agreed Connor. "This reminds me of the way deviants talked about being saved by ra9 before the revolution. Alexander might not be a single individual. You have to get more information about it."

"I intend to."

Then Nines changed the subject and told Connor he'd accompanied Officer Chen home last night to try and see Sixty, but that the latter had refused to see him. Nines hadn't even caught a glimpse of the RK800. Officer Chen had been the one to come back to the door and apologetically tell him Sixty didn't want to see anyone. He'd accepted it, but Connor knew he would try again later: Nines wasn't one to give up that easily. Connor for his part hadn't been able to stop thinking about the sight of Sixty hanging from the ceiling covered in blood. The strain in his wires had been getting stronger, so he hadn't charged correctly that night to reduce it. It worked, but he'd started the day with levels at 34% and he knew he wouldn't be able to push back charging tonight. 

The day wasn't very eventful once Sixty's attackers had been interrogated and put away into holding, and Connor solved cold case after cold case alone at his desk. He wished Hank didn't have to leave for crime scenes so often so that they could've talked more, but of course it was ridiculous to want that. He wondered when Captain Fowler would allow him to do more than simple deskwork. Connor hadn't been able to make progress on the missing androids, but he'd been efficient in dealing with all the other files and he didn't get time loss glitches anymore. Surely the captain would realize soon that keeping Connor at his desk wasn't to the DPD's best advantage, especially since Sixty had shown no signs of returning. Connor hoped so.

"All right," Hank said as he suddenly slapped his hands against the desk, effectively catching Connor's attention. It was the end of the day and a few officers had already left while others were coming in to cover their shift. Hank leaned forward and told Connor: "We're going to New Jericho's garden."

"Now?" Connor asked, puzzled, his hand still lying against his computer.

"Yep."

"But I'm not done-"

"Hey, listen here, I'm not sitting around and twiddling my thumbs until you decide your day is over. You're a workaholic, Connor, you know that?" Hank bent down to turn off his computer, and then straightened back up. "I'm gonna go wash this, and by the time I come back you're ready to leave."

Connor watched as Hank picked up his empty mug and left for the break room without waiting to hear his opinion on the matter. The android stared at his screen, conflicted, and then decided Hank was right. He'd solved enough cases for the day. He put the whole system on standby and rapidly tidied up his desk, which consisted in simply checking that the surface was as pristine as ever, before standing up, pushing his chair back in place, and waiting for his friend. Hank came back two minutes later with a dripping mug- Hank never took the time to dry it before returning it to his desk- and they headed for the door.

Connor felt a bit agitated, and he soon realized that he was intimidated by the suddenly very real prospect of attempting gardening for the first time, knowing he'd feel exposed in the middle of the camp doing something as trivial as digging in dirt. He didn't feel ready.

"Hank."

His friend opened the door to the car and looked at him over the roof. "Yeah?"

"Can we take a moment before going? Just... A few minutes."

Hank stared at him attentively, and asked: "You okay?"

Connor nodded. "I'm fine, I only need a moment. To collect myself."

Hank could have asked him why, but he didn't. He just nodded and said: "Sure," before sliding in his seat. Connor followed suit.

They ended up going to Hank's house first. As soon as they stepped inside, Connor knelt down next to Sumo and circled his arms around the massive dog, running his fingers in the thick fur. His insides buzzed with mixed dread and anticipation. He really did want to know more about the activity that Hank and Nines had spent a whole afternoon doing together, and he'd seen the growing display of plants in the Butterfly Garden from afar; but as curious as he was, it felt like he was going to be part of some twisted play by participating in the life of the Garden. A murderer trying to act like the innocent androids that surrounded him. An imposter. Hank let Conno pat Sumo as long as he wanted while he got on with his own business around the house, and Connor managed to tamp down his apprehension after half an hour of petting Sumo and talking with Hank. He finally decided he was calm enough to go, and it wasn't long before they were stepping past the entrance to the Butterfly Garden.

"I think they were over there the last time," Hank said, pointing in the direction ahead of them.

They walked down the path towards a site covered in various bulbous plants and Connor saw Simon standing on the other side of the Garden, animatedly talking with a group of androids and pointing at the saplings around them. He acted so different here, in the open air and surrounded with the things he cared about, compared to his behaviour when it was just the five leaders of New Jericho in a cabin where he chose to stay in retreat. Simon was a valuable participant in their debates since he kept a reasonably cautious approach to most issues and was also the most efficient at shutting down North and Josh's arguments when they went too far; the problem was that he hadn't warmed up to Connor at all, and Connor still didn't have the courage to try and apologize for good. Even if he did, Simon wasn't obligated to forgive him; and if Connor had been in his place, he was quite sure he wouldn't have forgiven himself. The only notable change was that Simon minded less than before to find himself alone in a closed room with him, as long as there was a door close by and another android behind said door. This had only happened twice, when they'd been the last to leave the cabin; the first time had been Connor thanking Simon for his advice on one of his strategies. The next had surprisingly been an exchange initiated by Simon himself, when he'd privately told Connor that he didn't want their past to influence their current discussions as leaders of New Jericho- as in, for Connor to stop thanking him so excessively each time Simon proposed good advice. Connor had silently agreed, and Simon had promptly left.

Connor had been both a bit discouraged that he couldn't get on better terms with Simon and glad that the other now felt at ease enough that he could confront Connor about this kind of thing alone, without showing any fear in his blue eyes. It was possible that out of the two of them, Connor was now the one most uncomfortable with this kind of situation. It was good that Simon was confident enough not to feel threatened by Connor's mere presence anymore, but Connor himself was scared of Simon. He was scared because every time Simon faced him alone, it was like standing next to the pool unwaveringly where Daniel had been shot for trusting him, and torturing Simon relentlessly in that locker for information CyberLife needed, and death suddenly hollowing out Connor's mind on that rooftop all at once. Connor was scared of Simon and even though he didn't show it on the surface, he couldn't help wanting to avoid him most of the time.

So Connor averted his eyes from the PL600 gently smiling at the android asking him about how the roots were to be maintained and continued on his way at Hank's side. He knew Simon wouldn't kick him out of this place even if it displeased him to see Connor there, and he knew that as both a fellow leader and deviant, he had his place here. Still, Connor felt like he was invading private grounds. The androids hanging about in the Garden threw him sidelong glances every time they recognized him, and by now he knew the pattern as intimately as if it had been scratched into his processor: widening eyes, hastily averted gaze, creasing of the brow, and the slow return of that gaze. The light in it would vary: sometimes it could be well-intentioned, which was rare. Sometimes it was hatred, but not as often as he thought it would be. Mostly it was simple interest or wary curiosity.

"Oh, right there," said Hank, and Connor looked in the direction his friend was pointing.

There were three YK500s ahead of them, one of which caught sight of them rather fast and instantly whirled around with a wide grin.

"It's Mister Human! Hank! Hank, hi!"

Hank responded to the blonde boy's frantic waving with his own, a bit less enthusiastic and certainly not as energetic. "Hey, guys."

Connor presumed this was the YK500 Hank had called the loud one when he'd told him about his gardening adventure on the way here, otherwise known as Thomas. The other two children had turned around, one a little girl with inquisitive eyes- Anna- and the other a boy with serious features, who could only be Ben. Thomas dropped the bulb he was holding and gestured towards the adult supervising them. "Lisa, oh, oh, Lisa, look! It's the deviant hunter! It's the real one this time!"

The KL900 turned around to face them. She didn't look enchanted to see either of them there, but she didn't look overly wary either; less than Connor had expected her to be, at any rate. It felt strange to see this model whole and intact, unlike the one he'd met aboard Jericho who had spoken cryptic words to him.

 _"You're looking for yourself,"_ she'd told him with dark eyes and an irregular voice. He hadn't known what to make of that back then. Now he wondered how she'd been able to tell.

"Hello, Mr. Anderson," Lisa said. "Have you come here to check on your flowers?"

"Ah, well, kinda?" Hank turned to Connor and smacked him on the back, widely smiling at the YK500s. "I thought I'd come back and bring Connor along, since he was curious about the time I gardened with you guys."

Ben frowned in confusion. "You want to garden? But you're the deviant hunter."

"I used to be," replied Connor, ignoring the twinge of guilt that came with hearing his title spoken out loud.

"Uh-huh," said the boy slowly.

"So you want to be a gardener now?" asked Anna.

She'd said it so innocently that the concept amused Connor, and clearly it amused Hank as well. His friend snorted out loud and said: "I can definitely see you wearing the straw hat and everything."

Connor didn't know why Hank was talking about straw hats, but he chose to focus on the little girl standing next to him. "Not exactly. I just thought it could be interesting, since a lot of androids have been doing this."

"Well you're gonna love it!" exclaimed Thomas. "It's super cool. Simon said everyone could choose their favourite plant and look after it so that it would sprout soon. What do you want to choose?"

Connor looked at Hank for guidance, but his friend discreetly shrugged, a smile still tugging at the corners of his mouth. He looked back at Thomas and hesitantly said: "...I'm not sure. I wasn't aware of this tradition."

"Well, you don't _have_ to if you don't wanna, but I think it's cool that everybody gets their own. We all chose one," said Thomas as he gestured towards himself and the others. "Even Lisa! But mine's gonna be the coolest."

"Your plant was weird-looking though," said Anna.

Thomas grinned smugly at her. "You're just jealous cause it's gonna be the tallest."

"No, it really did look weird," Ben chimed in.

"All right, no arguing," intervened Lisa. "You were doing just fine before, come on, get back to work."

"But he doesn't have a plant, we gotta help him find one," Thomas protested with a finger pointed in Connor's direction.

"I wanna help too," said Anna.

"Yeah, I bet a deviant hunter really cares about that kind of thing," Ben muttered from his spot.

Connor felt an unpleasant tingle down his back when he recognized the resentement in his voice. Could it be they'd met before? But Connor had no recollection of such an encounter, and this wasn't the kind of behaviour someone he'd hunted usually displayed upon seeing him again. This was more like North's behaviour. Maybe Ben had just heard rumors about the role Connor had played before deviating and had made up his mind about what kind of person he was after hearing them. For a YK500 model, Ben acted surprisingly more of an adult than a child.

"Hey," Hank reprimanded him. "The name's Connor, not deviant hunter, all right?"

Ben eyed the human challengingly, but Lisa spoke before he could retort. "Ben, Connor is here to garden. Leave him alone."

There was a short moment of awkward silence, and then Thomas piped up : "Hey, Mister Connor?"

Connor looked at him. "Yes?"

"Do you want us to show you all the plants Simon brought so you can choose yours?"

Connor dipped his head, grateful for the change of subject. "That would be very kind of you."

"You go ahead with them," said Hank behind him. "I'll stay here, see how my flowers are doing."

Connor nodded to him while Anna walked past to take the lead. "Follow me, mister."

Thomas scampered after her, and Connor obediently followed both children down the path. They led him to a shack in the corner of the Garden, and when he entered he found himself surrounded by various pallet boxes, plastic punnets and pots that were all filled with various types of plants. There were saplings, half-grown roots, bulbs, seeds that were sealed in packets and others that had started germinating in the cool shadows. Connor felt a pull at his clothes which distracted him from trying to identify the different species splayed out in front of him, and he looked down to face Anna.

"Have you ever tried gardening at all?" she asked.

"No, I can't say I have."

"Then I think you should choose like me and Ben. Simon told us it would be easier if we picked bulbs, cause you just have to dig a hole and plop it inside and wait."

Thomas suddenly appeared between them. "No way! He's the deviant hunter, he's gotta pick a cool plant!"

Anna frowned at him reprovingly. "Hank said to stop calling him that."

"But it's cool," argued Thomas.

"...It's not," quietly said Connor. Both children looked up at him, one taken aback and the other curious, and when he realized that he quickly added: "I'm not the deviant hunter anymore."

Thomas and Anna exchanged uncertain gazes, and then the boy asked: "So you're not gonna choose a cool plant?"

Connor tried to smile to ease the uncomfortable atmosphere. When he found that he couldn't smile, he opted for using a reassuring tone of voice and answered: "I'm going to follow Anna's advice, if you don't mind. It sounds good to me."

"Okay," said Thomas, visibly making an effort not to look disappointed.

"That way you're sure to have the best plant," Connor added, feeling a little guilty about letting him down.

Thomas' face brightened. "Yeah! It's gonna be awesome, you'll see. Simon said it was one of the tallest plants he had."

"Yeah, and he also said it would be hard to grow," Anna said from her side of the room where she was sifting through some of the pallet boxes.

"I don't care about that. I'm gonne take the best care of it, there's no way it won't grow," Thomas replied with unshakable faith.

"Sure," she answered, and even though Connor couldn't see her face from where he stood he was practically certain she'd just rolled her eyes. Then she spun around holding three bulbs in her small hands and walked up to him. "Here, mister, these are for you. There's lily, and that's daffodil, and that's tulip."

Connor tilted his head to consider his choices, and then reached out to pick one up. "I'll take the tulip. Thank you for you help, Anna."

She smiled at him proudly and went to put the rest back where she'd taken them, then wiped her hands on her lilac playsuit.

"Hey, Mister Connor?" asked Thomas.

"Yes?"

"Why'd you choose the tulip?"

Connor stared at the bulb in his hands. "I guess it sounded like the simpler plant to me."

"Oh," said Thomas, peering at it with unbridled curiosity. "What color is it gonna be?"

"I don't know."

"They're all mixed up in the boxes," Anna informed them. "So it's like a surprise."

"I don't like surprises," said Thomas decidedly. "Cause you have to wait. I hate waiting. It's boring."

"I like them," Anna declared, and then she looked up. "What about you, mister?"

Connor wasn't used to thinking about what he did and didn't like, and it still surprised him when someone asked him this kind of question. He'd tried to do it more often at first, when Hank had encouraged him to; but as time went on he failed to see the point in actively searching. It hadn't changed anything for anyone whether or not he enjoyed certain aspects of life. It wasn't particularly useful to figure out what he liked, and these days it even felt difficult. Connor didn't know if he liked surprises. He didn't even know if he liked the flower he'd chosen. Connor stared at her a second too long without answering.

Anna peered at him. "Are you okay, Mister Connor?"

"I'm fine. Maybe we should go back," he said.

"Okay," she said, and thankfully didn't press the issue.

Their little group headed back to where they'd left the others. Connor found Hank crouched next to Ben and Lisa watched on as the both of them held a calm conversation, though Ben's brow was creased in what Connor identified as doubt. Both looked up at him and the two other children when they approached, and a smile appeared on Hank's lips.

"So you chose one, huh?"

"A tulip," confirmed Connor.

"Are they going to show you how to plant it?"

"Oh, I will!" excitedly volunteered Thomas, and he grabbed him by the hem of his duffle coat to guide him to a row of neatly dug little holes the size of Connor's palm.

He heard Hank let out a small chuckle, but when he looked over his friend had already turned back around and picked up the conversation where he'd left it with Ben. Anna had gone to sit down next to the both of them and was listening with extreme attention. Connor could hear the subject of their conversation perfectly: Nines and North. Anna and Hank both seemed to root for Nines while Ben kept saying that North wasn't _that_ angry all the time.

"Hey, Mister Connor? You gotta look at what I'm doing if you wanna learn," said Thomas' voice at his side.

Connor promptly returned his attention to the matter at hand. "Yes, I'm sorry."

"Oh, it's all right, you don't gotta apologize," Thomas reassured him. "I get distracted a lot too. Lisa says I have the attention span of a sparrow, but I think that's nice, because sparrows are cute. Plus, I don't get it. Do sparrows have short attention spans?"

"It's a common saying," Connor explained. "Humans can have shorter attention span than sparrows, actually."

"Oh. But what about androids?"

"I'd imagine the saying goes for us as well. It depends on the individual."

"Hm." Thomas thoughtfully returned to his digging, and Connor followed the movement closely.

They scraped at the ground in silence for a little while, which surprised Connor because he'd thought Thomas was the kind of person to talk all the time. It was what Hank had told him. The boy looked like he was thinking, his expression shifting every once in a while. He looked over once he'd finished digging his hole and an approving smile spread across his lips.

"That's good!" He looked up at Connor, blue eyes bright and earnest. "You know, I bet your tulip's gonna be amazing. Don't worry about it being your first time gardening."

Connor was taken aback. He really hadn't expected kindness from anyone that wasn't already his friend, and especially not from any of the three children. Ben obviously had a problem with him, and it seemed that Anna, Thomas and him spent a lot of time together. It would've made more sense if Anna and Thomas disliked Connor too, and yet...

"...Um. Thank you, Thomas. That's... very nice of you to say."

Thomas' grin turned into a confused frown and he squinted at him. Connor feared he'd said something wrong, but before he had the time to ask what it was, Thomas was already talking again.

"Hey, Mister Connor?"

The boy's hands had stopped moving, and so had Connor's. He felt a bit nervous when he answered: "Yes?"

"I'm just wondering... Why're you so polite with us?"

"Polite?" echoed Connor, not having expected this line of questioning at all.

"Yeah," nodded Thomas. "You're like... Super polite with us. Even if you're an adult and we're kids."

Connor was extremely confused. Maybe he'd missed some kind of rule. He had the programming to deal with a child in a negotiation, but this wasn't a negotiation, and so he wasn't sure if there was a right way of doing things in this situation. Thomas' reaction confirmed that there was, only Connor still didn't know how. In the end, he asked: "Is there a certain way I'm supposed to talk to you?"

Thomas let himself fall back and crossed his legs, bringing a dirt-covered hand to his chin. "I dunno. I guess? You're kinda the first adult to talk to me like that, so..."

"You're putting dirt on your chin," Connor helpfully observed.

"Oh, shoot, you're right!" exclaimed Thomas with wide eyes, and he quickly rubbed at his chin with the back of his hand. "Lisa keeps saying I gotta be careful not to get dirty cause I'm always the one getting the dirtiest. But it's stupid, right? It's dirt, of course I'm gonna get dirty. I don't know how the others do it. Anyway." He wiped his hands on his red shirt and then on his cargo shorts, effectively smearing dirt all over his clothes, then beamed at Connor. "Did I get it all off?"

"Yes," answered Connor, deciding not to point out that Lisa probably preferred Thomas' chin to be dirty rather than his clothes. It was kind of his fault that Thomas had wiped his hands on his shirt just now.

"Okay, good. So now you take your bulb and just, boom, drop it in there. You know, I'm really curious about the color. Simon chose plenty so, chances are you're gonna get a good one."

Connor settled the bulb in the dirt and tilted his head inquiringly. "What's your idea of a good color?"

"I mean cool ones, like blue and orange! Those are good colors. My favorite color's orange though. What's yours?"

This again. Connor returned his attention to packing the dirt over the bulb, his mind frantically sifting through various hues of colors. There were too many, how did one even choose? What made them choose? How did they know there was a color they liked in particular? It was all the same to Connor.

"It's okay if you don't know," Thomas said next to him, his gaze curiously attentive. "You don't really have to have a favorite if you can't choose. Anna has favorites, not favorite, cause she likes too many colors."

Connor didn't answer. He felt stupid for being unable to pick. It came so naturally to these children to choose what they liked best, and they were androids too. He didn't understand why it was so difficult for him when it was so easy for others.

"Hey, Mister Connor, I think you're packing it too tight."

He came back to the present and realized that he was putting way too much pressure on the soil. It looked like he'd encased the bulb in a brick. Connor immediately retrieved his hands before he could make another mistake and clenched his jaw. Not only was he unable to do something as simple as choose, but he couldn't even put dirt back in a hole correctly. He didn't even understand why Hank and Nines had found this kind of activity enjoyable. What was _wrong_ with him?

Suddenly a pair of bright blue eyes appeared in front of him. Thomas was leaning on all fours to stare at his face. "You okay?"

Connor stared back at him, and then averted his gaze. "Yes."

"Cause you don't look okay," observed Thomas. "At all. You know we can just start over, right? It's not a big deal. It's just dirt."

"I know," Connor quietly said, but now all he wanted to do was get out of here. He didn't even know why he'd accepted Hank's suggestion to come here, or why he'd been curious about gardening at all. He obviously wasn't meant for this kind of thing. The only thing he knew to do was follow orders and do his job, and even then he made mistakes. Connor felt like hitting himself. He just... He couldn't get _anything_ right.

"Hey, look, Mister Connor. I know we don't know each other that well but, uh, you look like you're gonna get angry or something. I think. Did I say something that upset you? Cause if so I'm sorry."

Connor's eyes widened and his gaze snapped back to the boy's concerned face. "No! No, not at all, it's not you, it's... I'm sorry. I have a lot of things going on in my head. It's not your fault."

Thomas nodded wisely. "Oh, I get it. Me too, when I get too many thoughts, I get angry. It's annoying. Anna and me we found a solution, though, I just gotta get busy and do something with my hands, so she lets me braid her hair if I get all, you know, buzzy inside. And it works!" He glanced over to the others and muffled a snicker behind his almost-clean hand. "I don't know if Hank would let you braid his hair, though."

Connor felt his lip curl up a notch at the thought of making anything of Hank's hair. Thomas' eyes widened.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, dropping his hand in shock.

Connor looked at him in alarm. "What is it?"

Thomas pointed at him, his mouth opened and closed a few times, and then he said: "Wow, so you guys _can_ smile!"

Connor frowned at him in puzzlement. "What do you mean, 'you guys can smile'?"

Thomas looked sheepish all of a sudden. "Oh, well, y'know, I thought you and that other guy who looks like you weren't programmed to smile. Cause he didn't smile _at all_ and like, people say you never smile so, I thought you just... didn't."

Connor stared at him.

"But obviously they're wrong," continued Thomas, his words tumbling over each other. "Woah, I can't believe you smiled and I saw it. Woah. Why don't you smile more often if you can do it? I bet people would be a lot nicer if you smiled more. Well, I mean, is that how you usually smile?"

"...Yes," was all Connor could think to answer.

Thomas looked thoughtful then, and he brought his hand to his chin again. "That was a really small smile though. And it looked awkward. Weird. You can't smile bigger than that?"

"I can." Connor shifted on the spot, embarrassed. "I'm just not used to it."

"You need to practice, I think," said Thomas with a decisive nod. "Do you like jokes? I have a good one. What's round and red? A tomato."

Connor didn't smile.

"Okay, well, I don't have the best comedic timing," grimaced Thomas. "So people don't usually laugh at my jokes a lot. But you should ask people to tell you jokes! You'll laugh more and then people will see you smile, and that'll show them you're not a machine."

A wave of cold washed over Connor. "They say that?"

Thomas' eyes widened and he slapped a hand over his mouth, realised it was too late, and then nodded slowly and admitted in a low voice: "...Yeah."

"Oh." Of course, Connor had expected that somewhere in the back of his mind, but hearing it confirmed didn't feel good. No wonder so many deviants shot him those stares across New Jericho if they not only knew of his past actions, but thought he was still a machine.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to call you names or anything," Thomas apologized. "They're wrong to call you that, anyway. I'm sure they'll stop if they see that you can smile like you did earlier."

"Yes. Right." Connor kept staring at the dirt, thoughts whirling around in his mind like leaves in a storm. He was trying, trying so hard to be deviant, to act normally, but of course it wasn't enough. He'd been convinced that he wasn't one for months himself, so it shouldn't have come as a surprise to realise so many androids still had the same doubts about him. And yet... He felt like someone had just kicked his footing loose. He hadn't realised. How were the people of New Jericho supposed to trust in him as a leader if they didn't even trust he was a deviant? A worse thought struck him then and he staggered to his feet, limbs suddenly too heavy. What if by being perceived as a machine, he was hurting the other leaders' credibility? If androids thought Markus was keeping a machine as his advisor, it contradicted his message of freedom and made him seem irrational. He needed to tell Markus. He had to tell him- but then Connor would lose his role as leader. He'd have no way of proving his worth to New Jericho, and he'd already been demoted at the DPD, and what if he was losing it all?

"What's wrong? Hey, Mister Connor?"

He snapped out of his thoughts and realised that Thomas had stood up as well. Connor quickly glanced over his shoulder to check if anyone else had noticed his momentary panic, but thankfully Hank still had his back turned to him and was talking to the other two children. Lisa was tending to plants on the side. No one had noticed. Connor quickly crouched back down and ordered himself to calm down. He had to think. A notification appeared in the lower right corner of his HUD.

< _Warning: battery levels at 27%. Low battery levels._ >

Low, but not dangerous. Connor dismissed the notification. He needed to charge soon. Connor felt a cautious hand pat his back as Thomas kneeled next to him. 

"It's only name-calling, you know. They don't actually think that. It would be stupid if they really thought that, everyone knows you helped all the people in the Tower deviate. Would a machine do that? No, cause that makes no sense. They're just being stupid, Mister Connor, you shouldn't worry about it."

Connor shook his head. "You don't understand, rumors like that will tarnish the other leaders' reputation. It doesn't matter if it's true or not."

Thomas scooted in front of him so that their gazes met. "But it's _stupid_. I'm a kid, and even I thought it made no sense that you were still a machine. That's why I didn't believe it. Mister Connor, no one actually thinks that. They're just saying it to be mean. I've only known you for like, twenty minutes, and I think you're great, so that just makes them even bigger idiots. They don't know what they're talking about."

His blue eyes suddenly brightened like he'd just had an idea. "And look, you know, even if I heard some people say that, I also heard a bunch of other people say you were cool cause you saved all those other androids. And you know, some people call other people machines when they just don't like them, it's not cause they think you really are one. Like, really, you shouldn't let that get to you. I didn't even mean to tell you that, it just slipped out, I only got all awkward about it cause you said it wasn't cool to be a deviant hunter so I guessed that you didn't like what you did as a machine and probably definitely wouldn't like to know you got called that. But, seriously, it's nothing. Some people don't like you, yeah, but then you've got fans too! Especially AP700s. Lots of AP700s. They say you're awesome. Plus you're friends with Markus and Josh, and they're really nice, so that means you're really nice, and Hank said so too. And, um, look, I don't know what else to say exactly but are you feeling okay?"

Connor had only half-listened to the boy's monologue because of how distant everything felt, but amidst his panic that pulled him in every direction, he managed to find some semblance of detachement. He didn't say anything as his mind pieced together what Thomas had just spoken at him and his eyes gradually widened.

He looked at Thomas. "...They say I'm... awesome?"

The boy enthusiastically nodded. "Well, yeah, cause it's true. You did kinda save their lives and all. Also the whole revolution probably. You look really cool on the podium's mural, like a, like a, like a king or something. That painting is _cool_. Anyway yeah, Mister Connor, you're awesome."

Connor dropped his gaze to his tulip hole and said nothing.

Thomas stared at him for a bit, and then said: "Okay, uh, do you want to try again with the dirt? You look like you're thinking too much still. You should get busy, I think. Like when I braid Anna's hair. You wanna do that?"

Connor still didn't say anything.

"Um... Okay. I'm gonna start and then you can join in." Thomas turned back to the tightly packed soil and started digging again as Connor watched. 

It took Connor a moment- he was slower than usual- but he'd finished processing everything they'd just talked about by the time Thomas was halfway through, and then he started moving again to help.

Thomas looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

Connor nodded. "Yes. That was just... a lot to take in."

"Well if you're okay, then everything's okay," cheerfully said Thomas, and he resumed digging alongside Connor.

They emptied out all the dirt and started filling the hole all over again, this time while Connor was moving slower under Thomas' strict supervision, and they were gently patting the soil when they heard a bit of commotion coming from Hank's side.

"You have a dog?" exclaimed Ben excitedly behind them. Both Connor and Thomas turned around to see what the fuss was about and saw him immediately slump back in his black hoodie, nonchalance faked anew. "I mean, I don't really care. Anna likes them."

Anna raised a dubious brow, but before she could talk Thomas was already jumping up from his spot and echoing even more excitedly: "You have a _dog?_ "

Hank turned around to grin at them. "Yeah, and Connor knows him. They're buddies."

Thomas whirled around to face Connor with bright blue eyes and asked: "Is it a girl or a boy? What dog is it? Is it big or small?"

"It's... big," said Connor, a bit taken aback by the enthusiasm Thomas displayed, even though he knew he really shouldn't have been. It was Thomas, after all. "A Saint-Bernard. Male. His name is Sumo. He's Hank's dog." He couldn't help sounding stilted since he didn't know if this answer was quite what was expected of him, and none of it flowed right; but none of the others seemed to care.

Anna was now raising both brows. "A Sayn-Bennard? What's that?"

"Oh," Connor said stupidly, only now realizing that YK500 models didn't have the same access to data he did since they'd been meant to learn things the way a human child would. "Of course. You don't know."

"You can show us," she suggested.

"Yeah!" agreed Thomas enthusiastically. He reached out as the skin of his hand skittered back, and Connor froze.

_White plastic._  
_White plastic._  
_White plastic._  
_White plastic._  
_His arm, trapped in her curled fingers._

"No, not doing that," said a rough voice next to him, and he snapped out of the memory glitch.

Connor blinked and saw that Hank was holding Thomas back. The children now looked afraid, and when he looked up at his friend he saw that Hank was wearing a ferocious expression. Connor curled up his fists in his lap and quickly said: "Hank, it's all right."

Hank glanced over at him, then at his temple, and looked back at Thomas. His eyes widened when he finally noticed the looks on their faces and he hastily let go of the boy's arm. "Oh, uh, sorry kids. Didn't mean to scare you."

"We didn't mean to do anything bad," said Anna, and Connor noticed she'd scooted in front of Ben as if to shield him. Her eyes were cautious when she added: "Promise."

Hank raised both hands in an attempt to appease her. "Yeah, yeah, I know, of course not."

Thomas didn't look as spooked as the two others and he made a strange waving motion with his hands as if to calm everyone down. "It's okay, guys. It's my fault." He turned to Connor, a remorseful look in his blue eyes. "I scared you, right? Sorry for scaring you."

"It's okay," quickly said Connor, even if he really didn't feel the part.

Anna glanced at him, then seemed to recover from her initial surprise, and when she looked back at Thomas she folded her arms over her chest and said: "You're stupid. Lisa always says we have to ask before we interface."

"Sorry, sorry," said Thomas sheepishly. "I got too curious about the Sayn-Bennard."

Connor stared at his hands. The Tr- they weren't here, he had to stop the memories from resurfacing like this every time. Thomas was just a child. He wasn't a threat. He hadn't meant to hurt him.

"Look, if you're really that curious, you could've just asked me for a picture," grumbled Hank. "Anna's right, that was stupid."

"Hey, deviant hunter." Connor raised his head and met Ben's dark gaze. The boy was still in his weary hunched position. "You're scared of interfacing, right?"

Connor stared at the boy. The other two children were silent as well, and Hank was looking at them tensely. He was tempted to lie, pretend it was nothing, pretend he hadn't just been taken by surprise by this clinging fear of getting hurt all over again. But what good would it do? Lying hadn't gotten him anywhere up until now, and everyone in New Jericho would end up knowing about this one way or the other.

"Yes," he quietly answered. "I am."

"Why?"

Connor averted his gaze, fists tightening in his lap. He couldn't allow himself to remember it again. He couldn't allow himself to remember the precise moment they'd ruined him, the precise moment he'd been broken, and he forbade himself from doing so; but even without remembering he felt ashamed. It creeped up his throat and choked him even when he didn't need to breathe, rendering him silent. He couldn't look up again. He couldn't answer that question, he never would be able to.

"I think Mister Connor doesn't need to tell you, Ben. Mind your own beeswax," said Thomas' voice at his side.

Connor glanced up at the blonde boy in surprise. Thomas shot him a complicit smile and Connor felt a wave of gratefulness wash over him.

"Yeah, listen to your friend," added Hank. "It's nice asking questions, but sometimes it's better to shut your mouth."

"Let me see the Sayn-Bennard," ordered Anna, not looking like she'd ever cared about Ben's question at all.

But Ben was still staring at Connor with that guarded look in his eyes, and he didn't come close when Hank showed the others a picture of Sumo laying in the grass with his tongue out even if he looked tempted. He looked away when both Thomas and Anna let out cries of admiration at Sumo's size, and rolled his eyes when they attacked Hank with a whole other slew of questions about his dog. Connor studied him from afar and wondered why Ben was so wary of him compared to the other two.

When Hank was done answering most of Thomas' and Anna's questions, which was about ten minutes later and probably would've been much longer if Hank hadn't decided enough was enough, he declared it was time for them to leave. Connor had had the time to recover from his emotions and now felt tired, wanting more than anything else to go somewhere quiet. It had been a long few days, what with Sixty's assault and everything it had entailed for Connor, and talking with Thomas so much had drained a lot of his already low energy. When they all got up to say their goodbyes and Thomas asked them if they'd come back, Connor didn't hesitate long to say yes, because he liked the boy. Hank grumbled something that probably also meant yes.

"I'll look after your tulip and Hank's daffodils until you come back," declared Thomas.

"I don't know when I'll be back," admitted Connor. "I'm often busy."

"That's okay. I'll come get you as soon as I see it sprout, so that way you can see it happen!"

Connor thought that he decidely appreciated Thomas a lot. "Yes, I'd appreciate that. It's very nice of you."

"No problem!" beamed Thomas.

"I'll look after your flowers too, in case he messes up," said Anna in his back.

Thomas whirled around with an indignant gasp and Hank snickered. Connor felt his lips quirk up for the second time that day and said: "Thank you, Anna."

Anna's features slackened, she gaped at him and then turned to the boys, shoving a finger in his direction. "He smiles!"

"I smile," confirmed Connor, not really knowing if he felt uneasy or amused by the reaction this time around.

"He smiled at me first," proudly declared Thomas. "I already knew."

"Okay, okay, let's go," said Hank, and he turned to leave.

"See you next time," Connor told the children, and then he dipped his head to Lisa before leaving as well, a chorus of goodbyes ringing out in his back. 

As they walked out of the Garden, Hank said: "I'll be leaving then. Do you want to come with, or do you have stuff you need to take care of here?"

Connor briefly considered going to see Josh to tell him what had happened, but quickly came to the conclusion that there was no time. He needed to replenish his levels before patrolling, or he'd risk reaching critical levels on his way to report to Markus. "Actually, is it all right if I ask you to make a detour at my charging station on the way back?"

Hank looked at him in surprise. "Need a nap?"

"Yes, you could say that," Connor answered. 

"Sure, I'll drop you off." 

"Thank you."

Hank smiled at him. "Hey, it's no problem. I'm glad you're taking care of yourself."

Connor tried to ignore the pang of guilt that shot through his chest. Hank would be so disappointed if he knew. He smoothly changed the subject by asking Hank what his plans for the evening were, and soon they'd left New Jericho.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 18/10/2019 -
> 
> Thomas: 🎵You're awesome!🎵  
> Connor: No I'm not  
> Thomas: 🎵You're _awesome_ ~🎵
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> The kids are back! And so, by popular demand, Thomas is the one who will have a more prominent role amongst the three.  
> Thanks to Hanaotaku and Lokiitama for the idea of Connor trying his hand at gardening.
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Writing about gardening makes me want to go out and admire flowers. Multicolored tulips are so pretty. Also, I wonder what color Connor's tulip is gonna be ~  
> \- Connor taking time off to garden with the whole straw hat and overalls outfit is so cute to me, imagine him digging around in the dirt with Sumo at his side on a sunny day!  
> \- Ben is a wary kid, Anna is smart, and Thomas is outgoing. They're all very good friends, and have led very different house lives as children androids.  
> \- Connor is awkward with children~ He's trying his best, though. Being polite is always a safe bet.  
> \- Who else thinks Thomas would have a career in stand-up comedy raise your hand  
> \- _Yes_ , Thomas, tell Connor how good he looks when he smiles! Tell him to smile more! _Yes!_  
>  \- So, yeah, a lot of androids are assholes when they talk about Connor behind his back because he always looks so neutral and almost never smiles. But as Thomas says, not many actually think that he's still a machine, because it would make absolutely no sense. It's just that Concon makes them uneasy with his constant poker face.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	51. Say It

Sixty hadn't shown up at the charging station last night, nor did he the following. When Connor asked Officer Chen about it the next day, she told him Sixty would be staying with her for the time being. It turned out that Nines had been right: Sixty didn't want to cross paths with anyone.

"He's... not in his right state of mind," said Officer Chen, her fingers tapping against the badge at her waist. She looked uncomfortable. "You won't be seeing him for a while."

Connor didn't ask for any more details. He knew it wasn't the kindest reaction to feel relieved that the RK800 was secluded to Officer Chen's home, but he couldn't help it. It was so much easier navigating the DPD without the constant threat of Sixty coming up to him at any given moment to pelt him with unprompted criticizing. Nines, on the other hand, looked very worried by this new development. Connor left both him and Officer Chen behind when they started going into more detail about Sixty's state. He didn't want to know, didn't want to have to feel even worse about what had happened to his double, so he stepped out of the precinct for a moment. He knew he was losing precious minutes of work, but hearing the rest of that conversation wasn't something he wanted to inflict on himself. Connor went to sit on a nearby bench and stared at a pigeon pecking at the ground. He wondered how Rupert was faring now, and Ralph, and then he interrupted his line of thought when it ventured out to the two lovers. His coin found its way into his hands and he idly flipped it for ten more minutes before heading back inside. By then, Officer Chen and Nines had each gone their separate ways.

The latest therapist Hank had seen seemed to be better than the previous ones, because he hadn't come back completely irate about it. The next time he returned there was during one of their days off, while Connor was in Washington with Markus. The humans were as accomodating as ever, and there were still a few irreducible tensions during negotiations, but Markus and him stepped out of the office feeling victorious. They'd finally managed to convince President Warren to let androids work the more tedious and industrial jobs, and she'd said she'd reconsider their place in secretary work and caretaking. Of course, it would cause a rise in the unemployment rate and humans wouldn't be happy, but they couldn't just expect a whole species to remain inactive and unpaid. Connor had curtly reminded the council that if things continued in such a way, riots were likely to take place and it would be because of the President's lack of action. Markus had told them in a gentler voice that androids weren't asking for much and were willing to take the more thankless jobs as long as they would get paid. The humans had finally been able to conceive that perhaps letting an entire population stagnate under the pretext that humans were unhappy wasn't a reasonable option. Markus had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that it had taken them that long to understand this. 

The leader had praised Connor for the way he'd handled his role of bad cop during this negotiation and Connor had complimented Markus' good cop routine in turn. Obviously, making the President's decision official didn't mean it would be easy to implement, but Markus had faith that they'd be able to. Markus always had faith. It was impressive and, in Connor's opinion, somewhat touching; but he also wondered how long the deviant leader would be able to uphold it. Androids were still comitting crimes, still missing, still getting destroyed by humans. Connor and Nines themselves were trying their best to change that, but the both of them could only do so much when the scale of these events was nation-wide. Even trying to handle the cases limited to their city seemed insurmountable sometimes. Connor tried not to think about that, and simply solved as many cases as he could, as best as he could.

Hank hadn't answered his message asking how he'd fared during the therapy session when Connor returned to Detroit that day and still hadn't sent anything by the time the android's internal clock counted up past midnight, and the possibility that something was wrong grew and grew at the back of Connor's head until he couldn't ignore it anymore. He hadn't expected it would be easy for Hank to get better, of course. He knew human psychology was complicated, he knew there were bound to be ups and downs, steps forwards and almost as many backwards. He knew that finding a therapist and then talking to them was a very taxing thing to do, and he'd expected Hank to have trouble with it at some point. Connor knew all of this, but it was still difficult for him to find Hank face down on the table with the evidence of his alcohol consumption sprawled out all around him that night. Whatever Hank had talked about with the therapist, it had shaken him. Connor wasn't surprised that Hank had neglected to alert him of what he was planning to do at home; voluntarily or not, it didn't matter, the important part was that the gun was nowhere to be seen. Sumo watched on as Connor walked up to Hank and lowered a hand on the man's back. His temperature was low and his clothes were damp with perspiration.

"Hank."

Unsurprisingly, Hank didn't stir. Connor gave his back a shake.

"Hank, wake up."

Hank's slow breathing didn't so much as hitch. Connor really didn't want to slap him awake, so he straightened and looked around for an alternative. He could always pour a glass of water over his head, but it would make the ground slippery for Hank. Too dangerous. Connor's gaze caught onto Sumo's empty water bowl and he shook his head in disapproval, quickly stepping over to pick it up and fill it at the sink. It was one thing for Hank to throw himself into alcohol, another to neglect Sumo like this. He'd already done it before and Connor really didn't like that it kept happening. He settled the bowl back on the ground with a light scraping sound and then looked up at Hank as Sumo came over to drink. It wasn't like Hank would be of any help once he woke up, so Connor would have to carry him either way, and he decided to move Hank to the couch even if he wasn't awake. It wasn't very difficult to carry his friend's dead weight from the kitchen to the living room, though Hank's arm did bump in the table and his leg caught onto the corner of the couch, but some primitive part of Hank's brain must've been still active because he wasn't completely limp in Connor's arms.

Connor dumped Hank on the couch and heard the human mumble something unintelligible, and then Hank squirmed on the cushions to curl up with a shiver. Connor went to the bedroom, chose the same blanket as he had the last time, and carried it back to the living room to cover Hank with it. Then he sat down on the edge of the couch and silently watched Hank's furrowed brow.

Minutes ticked by.

Connor knew he should've been going into standby, but he didn't want to. He was agitated, and it took him a while to realize that he was angry. It took him even longer to understand that the reason he was angry was because of what Hank had done, which made no sense, because he'd known this would happen. It was inevitable. Someone with Hank's history of alcohol abuse couldn't recover as fast as Connor would've liked, and especially not when working through his memories and grief. Connor had little doubt the session had been a rough one for Hank, all the signs pointed to it; and yet he was resentful. He didn't want Hank to drink. He didn't want Hank to spend nights alone, drowning his thoughts in alcohol, not bothering to call Connor. Connor understood why Hank had chosen not to, really, he did. But Connor had wanted him to. A smaller, hopeful part of him had dared to think that maybe Hank was making enough progress that he'd accept Connor's presence and help even in these trying times. Connor shouldn't have listened to it, but he'd been unable to help himself. Now he was disappointed and he had only himself to blame.

Hank shifted in his sleep and Connor started feeling the urge to go into standby. His systems weren't strained yet but he wasn't supposed to spend entire nights active, not when he made sure to be low on battery these days. It was unreasonable to stay alert when Hank clearly wasn't about to wake up, and Connor needed to save up energy. They'd probably talk in the morning, Connor needed to be in shape for that. He looked away from Hank and settled his hands on his thighs, feet flat against the floor, before closing his eyes and going into standby.

He opened them again several hours later and realized that he'd exited standby mode because he'd felt something shift beside him. Connor's head snapped to the side and he saw Hank staring straight at him.

Then Hank grumbled: "Ah, shit. Of course you'd wake up."

"Good morning, Hank," Connor said without missing a beat. "How are you feeling?"

Hank threw the blanket away and rubbed his face. "Ya really need me to say it? Like shit, Connor."

Connor just stared, and after a while of silence Hank groaned and let his hand fall to his lap. "Look, I'm sorry you had to see that. I wasn't... I wasn't thinking straight. You weren't- I didn't even think to call you."

"I know," Connor said evenly, even if he could tell that what Hank had been about to say was that Connor hadn't been supposed to come at all. Hank had thought about calling but had chosen not to. And that was understandable, there were times when Connor needed to be alone too, even if he knew it wasn't for the best. Hank was rubbing his neck now, no doubt sore from the night he'd spent curled up in that uncomfortable position, and Connor waited. It wasn't up to him to press for answers.

Hank's shoulders hunched up and he mumbled: "I don't think a therapist's gonna work."

Connor didn't say anything.

Hank looked at him. "It's shit, Connor. I don't want to go back."

"I don't like going to see Josh, either. I don't even know if it's worth anything, but I still go," Connor told him.

"Yeah," said Hank, and his gaze dropped to the expanse of couch between them. "Yeah. You do."

They were silent again.

"Will you want to talk about yesterday at some point?" asked Connor.

"Don't think so."

"Do you want to eat breakfast?"

Hank shook his head. "I'll just drink coffee. I can't eat right now."

"Okay."

Hank sighed and rubbed his face again. "You can go, Connor. I'll be fine."

Connor nodded and smoothly removed himself from the couch to head for the door. Just before he was about to leave, he turned around and said: "You forgot to give Sumo water, so I filled his bowl."

"Thanks," Hank quietly mumbled, face still hidden behind his hand.

Connor hesitated, and added: "Please don't forget it next time. And call me."

Hank didn't answer. Connor took it as a sign that he needed to be left alone.

 

Connor was supposed to go see Josh that morning, but he made a quick detour through the Butterfly Garden before that to say hello to the children and see how his flower was faring. It turned out the Butterfly Garden was rather empty on early mornings and he didn't see any of the three YK500s, nor did he see their tutor. The mist that rolled in from the Detroit River made it so that he couldn't see far ahead of him, which made him feel more at ease because that meant no one would see him. He was briefly reminded of the way the curtain of snow in the Zen Garden had veiled his vision but quickly pushed away the memory once the glitch was over. This wasn't the same. There was no snow, he was wearing his duffle coat, Amanda wasn't there. He was safe.

Connor checked on the hole where he'd planted the tulip bulb, but nothing had changed there. It had only been a few days so it wasn't that unexpected, but he noticed that some of the children's daffodils had started peeking through the soil. He felt glad for them. Connor turned away to go back on the main path and he was nearly out of the Garden when he heard voices on his left and froze on the spot. There was a PL600's voice which he quickly recognized through the cautious inflections and steady tone of voice to be Simon's, and another which was the one that had just made his processor stutter for the second time in less than an hour: a soft sound, underlying fear, a tone that spoke of foundless abuse and brokenness.

_Gunshot. Cut to black._  
_Gunshot. Cut to black._  
_Gunshot. Cut to black._  
_Gunshot. Cut to black._

Connor unconsciously brought a hand to his forehead when the memory finally let him go. The voices sharpened into words he could understand.

"I don't... I don't know how to deal with that. You... They say you did that too. Out of desperation. How do you... How do you deal with that kind of thing?"

A short silence, and then Simon spoke. "You learn to live with it."

"...I-I can't. I keep remembering. And I- I couldn't handle it, I couldn't handle the fear, and and I keep remembering that I shot him and then myself even though, even though, I _know_ he was doing his job and I _know_ he didn't realise because it was his purpose but... He didn't stop. He never stopped, and the humans wouldn't get away from me, and I was so afraid and it was because of him that I was even there and I didn't _think_ -"

"Calm down, Shaolin. You're not there anymore, all right? It's over. You're alive."

"I saw him in the waiting room at the Tower," suddenly said the HK400, and Connor tensed. "I saw Connor there."

"I've heard. A few people were talking about it the other day."

"They were?"

"Yes. They talked about what you told him, and how Connor left the room right away."

"He was afraid. I shot him and he was afraid of me," the HK400 bitterly said. "I shot him in the head because I didn't want him to live. I didn't know he'd just keep coming back."

Simon was silent.

"But now... Now that it's over, now that they can't get me anymore... I think about it. And I think about him being afraid of me. And it feels... wrong." A pause. "It's his fault I was so scared, and he didn't listen to me even when I begged him to leave me alone, and I wouldn't have died if he'd left me alone, but then... I think... I think about the fact that he was a machine. He didn't have a choice, that's what it was, right? He couldn't help me."

"He was obeying orders," Simon quietly said. "He wasn't going to help anyone."

The HK400 didn't say anything for a while, and then he slowly said: "But you know... I think he hesitated, back then."

Connor had heard enough. He willed his legs to move and quickly walked out of the Garden. He was still feeling strangely unmoored when Josh finally called him inside the Psych Eval Center half an hour later, and something about it must have shown because Josh was even gentler than usual when he spoke.

"Did something happen?"

Connor quickly shook his head. "Nothing. Nothing, I'm just thinking about a lot of things."

Simon had heard about what had happened in the Tower from some witnesses in the waiting room. Did Josh know? Did everyone know? What did they think of him? And that HK400, Shaolin, he'd been telling Simon about... About how Connor hadn't truly been a machine at the time. Simon would know that Connor could have chosen not to torture him in the locker room, and Connor himself still didn't know why he'd never considered the possibility that he could disobey Amanda, despite displaying obvious signs of deviancy early on. Simon would think Connor had made the choice to hurt him like that, even though Connor hadn't realised he even had a choice in the first place. Simon would think he was even more of a monster, and Connor didn't want Simon to think that, but... That was what Connor was. A terrible, stupid monster who'd blindly obeyed its cruel orders without a second thought.

Josh gazed at him, his mouth set in a thoughtful line, and then he said : "I intended to talk about a certain subject today, but you wouldn't normally like it and you don't seem in your best state of mind right now."

"It's never easy coming here," Connor wryly remarked. "You might as well go through with it."

"I'd like to know what's got you so preoccupied, first."

Connor looked away. "I overheard Simon talking with the HK400 who shot me and I remembered what happened as a result. It's not that important, I can deal with it."

"You know yourself better than I do. Do you think you can handle an unpleasant subject with me today?"

Connor shot Josh a look. "When is it ever _not_ unpleasant?"

Josh dipped his head in acknowledgement. "I know these discussions are always difficult for you, Connor, but it's necessary. Tell me if you think you're not well enough for this talk."

"What is it about?" Connor cautiously asked.

"A subject we've been avoiding for weeks now, because you always pick the other options to talk about. I believe we've made enough progress together that we can broach that subject."

Connor dropped his gaze to the ground and murmured: "Interfacing."

"Yes. I'm not going to ask you to interface with me because I know that's not going to be possible now, but we have to talk about it some time or another."

"...I don't know if I can do what you expect of me," admitted Connor quietly.

"I don't expect anything of you, Connor. I only want to talk. The only thing I'd like you to try to do is to put words on your feelings, and if you can't do it, then that's fine too. Just a mere approach of the matter would be very good. Do you think you can do that?"

"I can try," said Connor, but he could feel tension coiling inside of him even as he spoke those words.

"Then my question is simple. Is your aversion to interfacing linked to what happened when you were attacked after running away from New Jericho?"

Connor looked up at him sharply. "I've told you before that I wasn't ready to talk about that."

"I told you you wouldn't like this," said Josh in an apologetic tone.

"You said we'd talk about interfacing, not what happened then. I'm not going to talk about it."

Josh stared at him with an unnervingly neutral expression. "So it is linked."

"What does it matter if it is?" snapped Connor. "Why do you insist on knowing what happened? I got attacked, _end of story_."

"I didn't ask to know what happened," Josh patiently answered. "I only asked if it was linked."

Connor's agitation grew. He felt like he'd been trapped in admitting something he hadn't meant to, and now Josh knew something he wasn't supposed to, and Connor's mind was rattling. "What are you trying to do?"

Josh raised placating hands. "Connor, I apologize if I gave you the wrong impression, but whatever you think is happening isn't intentional on my part. You think I want to know what happened to you that day, but I only want to know where your aversion stems from, that's all. I don't need the details."

"Don't lie to me, you've been wondering about what happened to me since the beginning," said Connor in a low voice. "Is it fun to make me slip up, to use underhanded methods instead of asking me directly?"

"Connor, I told you, that wasn't my intention," Josh calmly insisted.

"You knew it would make me think about it!" Connor accused. "What's your goal? Are you really trying to help me, or do you just want me to get an apathy attack so you can get rid of me?"

Josh's eyes widened. "What?"

Dread washed over Connor when he saw the surprise on Josh's face and he knew he'd misstepped. Connor violently pushed back his chair when he stood up. "We're done."

"Connor, wait, what do you mean by-"

Connor was already running out the back door before Josh could stop him, always running away, ignoring the voice calling out in his back. He rushed down the narrow passageway between the shelters and the walls of New Jericho, where he had the least chances to cross paths with others, and only slowed down once the Psych Eval Center was out of sight. He hurried to his quarters and shut the door behind him without a sound, then slid down to the ground in a crouch.

Connor felt a rush of cold realisation upon remembering the way Josh's features had gone slack in surprise. He'd said too much. None of the leaders were supposed to know how much he loathed that memory, they weren't supposed to know that Connor feared it had the potential to cause another apathy attack. He would've quarantined it a long time ago if it hadn't meant straining his systems and causing trouble for Markus. Connor had managed to keep it at bay as best as he could by repressing any line of thought that would be linked to it, but now... Now Josh knew, because Connor had been stupid enough to fall in his trap. The leaders had already known that the attack had been brutal from the damage they'd had to repair; but now Josh also knew how deeply what had happened that day still affected Connor, even though he'd tried so hard to keep it to himself. They'd figure it out, they'd understand that the risk of an apathy attack was still present.

Connor tightened his arms around himself and shrank down closer to the floor. He needed to hide. He couldn't be found. He knew he was panicking, he didn't want anyone to see him like this, not when the memory he'd been trying to repress was slowly creeping out of the shadows. He pushed it back down, violently snapped his mind in another direction, took out his coin to calibrate in a desperate effort to calm down on his own; but it was there, he could feel it skirting on the edges of his mind. His hands started trembling of their own accord and he was forced to put his quarter back before he dropped it. He couldn't acknowledge the memory, he just had to keep pretending it hadn't happened, none of it had, the memory didn't exist, they didn't exist and nothing had been done to him.

Connor was startled by a knock on his door just above his head.

"Connor, it's Nines. Josh told me what happened, let me in."

Fresh dread gripped Connor. He couldn't let Nines in, Nines had seen it, which meant it had happened which meant it existed and Connor _couldn't_ let it exist.

"Connor, please let me come inside. I know what Josh was angling for and I know it made you think about bad things, we can talk about it."

Connor shook his head. "Go away, Nines. There's nothing to talk about."

"Connor," said the RK900 a third time. "I'm serious, I don't want you to stay alone right now, not after the way you reacted."

"I said go away!" shouted Connor.

There was a short silence, and then Nines said: "All right."

Of all the things that happened next, Connor did not expect the door to be thrust open so forcefully that he was thrown off balance. He barely had the time to turn around in alarm before the door slammed shut and Nines was there, grabbing him by the shoulders, a stern expression on his face.

"Get out- Nines, get out!" he frantically ordered as he tried to swat the other's arms away.

"No." Nines scooted closer and pushed him against the wall. "I'm not going anywhere, not when you're like this. Do you even realise how stressed you are right now?"

"I said _get out_ ," snarled Connor, twisting to escape the grip on his shoulders, but he only managed to slip away a fraction of an inch before Nines reasserted his hold and effectively pinned Connor to the wall. 

"No," repeated Nines calmly. "I'm not leaving."

"You don't understand," Connor said desperately, the anger rapidly deserting him to leave anxious thrumming in its wake.

"What don't I understand?"

"Stop."

"What don't I understand?" repeated Nines.

"I don't-"

"Connor, I already know what happened. There's no risk talking about it with me."

"No- _no_. There's nothing to talk about."

"Why are you behaving like this?" asked Nines with a frown. "We've talked about it before, we can talk about it now. Why-"

" _No_."

"Connor, I already know-"

"No!"

Nines stared at him in confusion, and then his features hardened and his hands tightened around Connor's shoulders. "I see. Fine, if you won't say it, I will. The Tracis hurt you, Connor, and you can't pretend it's not doing anything to you right now."

" _Don't_ talk about the- them," hissed Connor.

Something flickered across Nines' face, and then his blue eyes narrowed. "You can't even say their name? Say it, Connor."

Connor tried to squirm free of the implacable hold on his shoulders and shook his head in denial.

" _Say it_."

Connor could feel that stupid error acting up again, his lungs inflating at a faster pace, his stress levels climbing.

"I can't, Nines. I can't."

The dangerous glint in the RK900's eyes faded into disbelief. "I thought you were just avoiding the subject, but you're... Can you even talk about anything that happened at all?"

Connor shook his head, squeezed his eyes shut, opened them again. "I can't, please, I _can't_."

He blindly fumbled for his coin despite his growing panic, his chest was rising and falling too quickly now, he needed to stop, he needed to get out. Nines let out a swear and one of his hands came away from Connor's shoulders to grab his trembling hand, and Connor felt the grounding squeeze of his fingers through the accumulating red haze in his vision. 

"Okay, Connor, okay," Nines was saying. "We won't ask you to talk about it anymore, not until you say you're ready. Focus on your ventilation rythm. You're okay, everything's going to be fine."

But that wasn't true, everything was on the verge of falling apart and Connor couldn't concentrate on anything even if he tried. He hadn't wanted Josh to guess. He hadn't meant to let him see how that memory constantly haunted him, shouldn't have let himself get tricked into talking about it, he should've just said yes to Josh's question and moved on. Instead he'd gotten distracted by the mention of what had happened like an idiot and admitted that it was always there, plaguing him, lurking at every corner of his mind, and that he was afraid of it. It hadn't yet caused an apathy attack by itself, but it was a risk, and Connor couldn't let it be.

"I'm sorry for pushing you," apologized Nines, his neat intonations cutting through the red haze. "I knew it was difficult for you, but I didn't think it was to this extent. Can you say something, Connor? Anything will do."

"I didn't want him to know," he managed.

"Josh? He doesn't know anything."

"No, he does. He knows now."

Connor felt Nines shifting at his side and tightly wrap both of his hands around his own. "Connor, he has absolutely no idea why you suddenly ran off. All he was able to glean from that was that you think he wants you to have an apathy attack, which is the furthest thing away from the truth. You know that, right? He wants you to get better, not exploit your disorder."

Connor tried to move away, but one of the hands disappeared from the hold around his fingers and he was gently but firmly pushed back against the wall.

"No, Connor. You're staying with me."

He slumped back in defeat.

"He said you thought he was trying to get rid of you, but you do realize no one wants to do that, don't you? The leaders need you. They're aware how important it is that you keep your position, Connor. _No one_ wants to get rid of you."

The stress was slowly abating and his vision was clearing. Connor slowly shook his head, still refusing to look at Nines. "I don't want to have another apathy attack."

"I know. That's why you're blocking it out, isn't it?"

Connor didn't answer. Nines gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

"I understand. I'd like to get rid of my memory out too, but like you, I can't simply quarantine it. It's good that you didn't quarantine it, Connor, I know how tempting it is."

Connor let out a bitter chuckle. "I'd do it if you all didn't mind the glitches."

"Then it's a good thing we do," answered Nines.

Connor wasn't so sure about that, but he didn't say it out loud. Nines shifted again and this time lightly shoved Connor's shoulder as he sat next to him. They stayed there, sitting with their back against the wall and staring ahead in silence. Nines didn't take his hand away and Connor didn't retrieve his. The touch felt reassuring, the pressure was grounding. The red bar on his HUD gradually fell.

"You don't have to do it now, of course," Nines suddenly spoke again after a while. "But one day, you're going to have to talk about what happened to someone."

A shudder shot up Connor's spine at the mere thought of going through with it, and he glanced at the android.

Nines stared right back, a serious expression on his face. "I can share that knowledge with you, but it's not what's going to help you. When I think back on it, we've only ever grazed the surface of what you went through without explicitely mentioning any of it. You know that's not enough. Putting words on what happened is what's necessary for your recovery."

"I don't need to do that," instantly replied Connor. But that hadn't felt like the right answer.

"Yes, you do," Nines insisted softly, sadness stealing over his features. 

Bitter denial settled on the tip of Connor's tongue, but a wave of weariness suddenly washed over him and he knew there would be no point in speaking it. He was unable to handle the look in Nines' eyes, so Connor let his gaze fall to his lap. It was silent in the room once more. 

Neither of them let go. 

Connor realized that the only person he'd let hold his hand like this before was Hank, and Hank was human. Nines was not. Nines was an android, and as such had the potential to interface with Connor, only... Connor didn't mind that they were holding hands. Just as he came to the only logical conclusion for why he felt reassured instead of threatened, a notification flashed in the top right corner of his HUD.

NINES^  
**TRUSTED**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 01/11/2019 -
> 
> Josh: Do you ever look at people and wonder, "what is going on inside their head?"  
> Connor's emotions: *running and screaming in the middle of a fire*
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> Look at this cool GM,L and RK1K [stuff](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/188452296675/lost-tanuki-tales-ahhhhhhhhh-look-at-what) Lokiitama made for me the other day!  
> Another thing, I got inspired to draw [Connor with makeup](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/188452822902/lost-tanuki-tales-connor-with-makeup-tnkt) to see how sweet he looks like that and the conclusion is, he looks very sweet.  
> Also holy shittttt 800 kudos and 13k hits, thank you so much pumpkins! That's wild! I'm honored to have so many readers who enjoy GM,L!
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Sixty is not okay, but at least he won't be there to harass Connor anymore, so... Yay?  
> \- Hank is not okay either, because talking to therapists obviously isn't a miraculous way to fix depression. Hard work goes into it, and it often dredges up a lot of pain.  
> \- Connor isn't often angry, but he really can't stand that Hank keeps putting himself in danger when he's alone. Hmm... Sounds familiar.  
> \- Ohhhhh shittttt Shaolin's pointing out The Stuff to Simon. Connor still doesn't fully understand how he could've been a deviant all along himself, so to have other people know is very disturbing to him.  
> \- Connor is terrified of getting another apathy attack and this fear has been stopping him from dealing with his problems. So... The decision the leaders took that one time with Connor's apathetic disorder isn't helping at all.  
> \- Stronger-faster-more-resilient Nines for the win! You keep Connor right there, Nines, and force him to get looked after.  
> \- Man, I really do like those relationship status upgrade endings, huh. These boys are so wholesome <3
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	52. Error

Carl's death had scoured Markus' insides with a dark fire and left a part of him in ashes, and there wasn't a day when Markus thought back on happier times only to realize all over again that he would never return to them. Time passed, however, and duty always called, so Markus would never linger too long on those thoughts. He even thought he might've been doing slightly better than before, as he hadn't allowed them to drag him down as far as they had the day he'd learned of his father's death. He'd yet to break down again since that time. He would get through this. He had friends who relied on him and a whole people to lead, after all, so Markus chose to believe he'd have no choice but to get better with time. Besides, his friends were doing their best to support him as well. Josh was there to help him reflect on Carl's life and death, Simon had been making an effort to understand his grief, North hadn't tried at all but showed she cared for his well-being in her gentled behaviour, and Connor seemed to understand best of all the way Markus felt now that Carl was gone. Markus felt grateful for the RK800's presence; every time doubt started eating at him, seeing Connor would remind him that he hadn't just made up Carl's feelings. Connor had been a witness to the deep affection Carl and Markus held for each other, he was proof of its reality.

Going to see the notary when the time had come hadn't been easy, even though Markus had had Connor at his side all the while. Markus had noticed as soon as he'd joined Connor before leaving New Jericho that his friend had opted not to wear his duffle coat, no doubt to keep a more professional appearance for the occasion. When they reached the notary's building, Connor's features were settled in neutral indifference and Markus couldn't help but recall all the other times he'd behaved like a machine. As much as he trusted and appreciated Connor, it reminded him of how ruthless the RK800 could really be. As soon as they stepped through the door to the notary's office, Markus was greeted with the sight of a human he'd often wished he'd never have to stand with in the same room again.

"Look who's here, it's the plastic messiah," sneered Leo. He got off his chair and sidled up to them, thrusting his face in Connor's. "And what are you supposed to be, huh?"

Connor gazed down at him impassively. "I'd advise you to take a step back, Mister Manfred."

"Ha!" barked Leo, an ugly laugh that was bitter and contemptuous all at once. "Or what, you're gonna cave my head in like that thing did?"

Connor's brow creased in a nearly indiscernible frown and Markus chose that moment to intervene. "Let's not fight, Leo. This isn't the place to settle our dispute."

"I couldn't agree more," said the notary, a middle-aged woman who looked both bored and annoyed at the same time. "Mister Manfred, please come sit down so we can start."

Leo smirked at Markus, faked a punch and let out another laugh when Connor uselessly surged forth to stop him.

"Androids training their own guard dogs. Unbelievable," he drawled as he returned to his seat.

Markus glanced at Connor, but his friend didn't react to the taunt.

"You as well, Markus," said the notary, gesturing to the other seat, and Markus' attention snapped back to her. He hastily complied. Connor remained standing in the back, silent and immobile.

"My name is Mrs. Elana Gridall," said the woman while shifting around some documents on her desk. "As you know, I am the one who handles all of the late Carl Manfred's unfinished business. He changed his testimony mere weeks before his death to make you both inherit his fortune. Since you are an android, Markus, this came as a surprise to me. I knew laws had recently changed, but you are the first android for whom this change is applied in this context."

Markus was taken aback by this information. "...I am?" 

Her grey eyes flickered up to his face. "Yes, you are."

"Wait, wait wait wait," intervened Leo. "You're telling me this plastic asshole's gonna take my money?"

"We haven't started, it is still Carl Manfred's money as we speak," she told him calmly. "I'm only carrying out his will, whether or not it suits you is none of my concern."

"This is- This is ridiculous!" exclaimed Leo, his hands gripping the wooden desk. "Markus is an _android_! He's not even his son!"

"The laws stipulate androids can inherit another person's fortune if this person wills it so," stated Mrs. Gridall.

"This is _bullshit_ ," seethed Leo. "How the fuck is this legal?!"

Markus cautiously ventured: "Leo..."

The human turned on him, hate blazing in his eyes. "You piece of shit, I should've ran you over when I had the chance. You're nothing. You're _nothing!_ You don't have the right!"

"Mister Manfred, please calm down."

"Calm down? _Calm down?!_ " Leo's chair went flying. "This plastic bitch comes in and takes what's mine, ruining my life just like he's always done, and you think I can _calm down?_ "

Mrs. Gridall stared at him with stone-cold eyes. "I can assure you I've seen things like this happen to others many times before, Mister Manfred, I know how hard it is. Please sit back down."

"Sit back down. You want me to sit back down," Leo muttered, unsteady laughter threading into his voice. Then he whirled around and grabbed Markus by the collar. "I'm gonna fucking _destroy you_." 

"Let go, Leo," Markus warned him. "This isn't going to lead you anywhere."

"Maybe not, but it's sure as hell gonna help me feel better," seethed the human, and his fist snapped back.

There was a blur of movement, Connor suddenly appeared at their side and Leo let out a yelp of pain when the RK800's hand wrapped around his wrist in an implacable hold. Connor's voice was smooth and clinical when he spoke.

"Let go of him."

"What're you gonna do? Break my wrist?" Leo snarled. Connor said nothing, but Markus saw Leo's face pale and the human rapidly cried: "Okay, okay! I'm letting go, fuck!"

The hand around Markus' collar loosened and Connor released Leo's wrist almost simultaneously. The human took a step back, cradling his wrist against his chest, his eyes dark with loathing.

"Fuck you," he spat.

"If you're quite done," evenly said Mrs. Gridall. Leo glared at her too, but then reluctantly put his chair back in place and sat down. Markus looked up at Connor, who had an inquisitive light in his brown eyes.

< _RK800: Are you okay?_ >

< _RK200: I'm fine, thank you for your help._ >

Connor gave a discreet nod and took a step back.

"Now, as I'm sure you've figured out by now, Carl Manfred decided to give you both a share of his money. You will each have a third of it, and the last one will go to various charities."

"I can't believe this," said Leo, shaking his head. "I can't believe this. Fair shares. What the hell, Dad, I mattered that little to you?"

"Carl Manfred also decided to give you shared rights to his belongings," continued the notary, unperturbed. "That means you are both allowed to occupy his various residences and do with them as you please, as long as you agree with each other."

Leo's head snapped up. "You mean I'm supposed to live with this fucker?"

"You haven't lived in Carl's house for years, Leo," Markus quietly observed.

"Yeah, so? I can damn well move back in now that he's dead!"

Markus looked at him steadily. "It doesn't matter, anyway. I don't intend to come back to the mansion, my duties require me to stay at New Jericho for the time being."

An ugly smile pulled at Leo's features. "So you _do_ know your place. Scared of what I might do when we're alone, pussy?"

Markus stared at him, and then looked back towards the desk, willing himself to stay calm. He just had to hear the rest of what Mrs. Gridall had to say and then he was out of here.

She cleared her throat and picked up where she'd left off. "Additionally, Markus, Carl prepared documents for you and wanted to talk to you about this directly, but I'm not sure he was able to before he passed away. Do you have an idea of what I'm talking about?"

"Documents?" repeated Markus, his brow furrowed. "No, I... I don't think I do."

Mrs. Gridall seriously clasped her hands together on the desk. "Carl Manfred went through all the necessary steps to change your name. If you agree to it, and are willing to sign these papers," she reached over to one of the stacks of papers and settled her hand on it, "you can accept to be adopted and for your name to become Markus Manfred."

"What?!" howled Leo.

Shocked, Markus could only stare at the papers the notary's hand was resting upon, suddenly feeling strangely disconnected from the situation. He could hear Leo raving next to him, felt a shove in his shoulder, and then a second one, heard a chair's feet rake across the floor, Mrs. Gridall's voice, Connor's, but it was all one big mess of noises he couldn't focus on. He hadn't expected this. He hadn't expected any of it, and a name change least of all. Carl... Carl had wanted to make him his son. Officially. It was still possible even now that he was dead, and Markus couldn't believe it.

"Markus?"

A hand on his shoulder. He looked up and was met with Connor's concerned expression. Markus brought a hand to his right eye and absent-mindedly rubbed it. "...I'm fine. I'm fine."

"I can't believe this shit," hissed Leo from behind him, and Markus noticed him pacing across the room.

"Markus," Mrs. Gridall's voice suddenly cut in, and he turned his head back around. She'd retrieved her hand from the stack of papers and had resumed clasping them on the desk. "Do you agree to become Carl Manfred's adopted son?"

Markus stared wide-eyed at her, then looked at the papers again. He didn't know if he could accept this. He hadn't been a good son, he'd let Carl slowly die alone while he was working in New Jericho; and despite Markus' absence, Carl had been going through the motions of making him his son. Markus couldn't believe that this was happening. It was too unexpected, going too fast, and he wasn't sure he deserved it after the way Carl had died.

His gaze returned to Mrs. Gridall. "...I... I don't know."

"It's very sudden, I am aware of that," she said, her expression softening slightly. "You don't have to answer today, but you'll have to decide sooner than later."

Markus nodded wordlessly.

He didn't fully pay attention to the rest after that. There were mentions of the charities to which Carl had donated his money, the government agencies he and Leo were supposed to go to so they would settle any loose ends, legal processes they had to go through and agreements they had to sign. By the time they were done, Markus barely heard Leo's stream of insults before he stormed out of the place. He automatically bade the notary goodbye and found himself standing in the main entrance with Connor next to him.

"Are you all right, Markus?" asked his friend.

Markus nodded. "Yes, I'm just... That was a lot to take in."

He started walking towards the door, when Connor reached out and gently but firmly held him back. "You can't walk around like before, remember? It's not safe. I called a cab, we only have to wait for a bit."

"Okay." Markus disengaged from the other's hold on his shoulder and stepped away.

"Markus?" He turned around to face the other and saw that Connor had an earnest look in his eyes. "You are Carl Manfred's son. You have every right to sign those papers."

Markus stared at him. Then he said: "Right," and resumed pacing in the hallway. Connor stayed close like he always did.

It hadn't been easy after that, but it had been done. They'd returned to the notary two days later and Markus had signed the required papers to change his name and be legally recognized as Carl's son. There was no bright fanfare, he didn't feel any internal shift, hadn't suddenly transformed; but it had been done. He was Carl's son. Markus spent that night sitting in front of an incomplete painting, dazed, still feeling like nothing was real. He was Carl's son. It took him hours to finally comprehend this, for his mind to accept that this was, in fact, reality. 

"My name is Markus Manfred," he murmured. A huge thrill surged through his wires, and then he felt a shiver ripple beneath his skin that was equal parts elation and sadness. He was Carl's son, and his father wasn't there to hear him speak those five words.

Life in New Jericho went on. The news that he was the first android to be adopted and to have inherited anything from his former owner travelled fast, and many admired him for pioneering the very rights they'd fought for. Others, like North and Simon, were unable to comprehend why he'd accepted any of it. They couldn't let go of their dislike for humans and the fact that he was now officially part of a human's family, and a human's son moreover, didn't sit well with them. Markus understood that and didn't try to convince them that it was a good thing: he was fully aware that not all androids had been lucky enough to belong in a calm household with a well-intentioned owner. Explaining wouldn't change anything. His new name didn't stop him from being Markus the Deviant Leader, and he was hopeful the others would understand that.

That the humans had allowed them to work had been a breakthrough and it had opened up many new possibilities for androids, but nothing had yet been done to soothe the human public in response. Markus feared that this would only add oil to an already burning fire, and he was right. The rate of hate crimes in Detroit jumped up nearly instantly, especially in the parts of the city furthest away from New Jericho where the leadership didn't have nearly enough control. Connor and Nines could only do so much to stop humans from attacking, and androids started retaliating in kind. Markus took it upon him to ask the Justice Department to redouble their efforts in keeping an eye out for suspicious activity. The Secretary didn't react well, claiming that they were already doing their best, but fortunately Connor was there to pull out a list of figures which showed with little doubt that the police forces in Detroit were not, in fact, doing their best. President Warren was not happy about it. Markus suspected she'd been aware of it before Connor had shown the numbers and hadn't liked that they'd been the ones to point out the flaws in her country's law enforcement system. At any rate, she quickly shut down the Secretary's protests and ordered him to make sure changes were brought to their organisation on a national level. 

Contrary to hate crimes, androids kept disappearing at the same steady pace and Markus still hadn't gotten any news from Keats. It had already been worrying enough when androids had started missing, but now one of his friends had been taken away and Markus couldn't stop thinking about it. Keats and all those androids were surely in danger, and what if they were already dead? What if they'd been shut down and dismantled for parts, or worse, tortured? Connor had told him he was almost certain it was organised crime, and that the ones responsible for it likely constituted a very wide network. Markus had heard about androids getting used to make Red Ice before the revolution, and he knew this kind of thing was still happening right underneath their noses in the darker corners of Detroit. The thought of Keats lying abandoned somewhere drained of all his thirium made Markus' own run cold. But Connor didn't think this was about that, because the bodies usually showed up once they weren't of any use anymore in cases related to Red Ice. Connor still hadn't been able to pinpoint a single culprit, the _modus operandi_ was too clean for the police to obtain anything insightful about it. It was a dangerous context to live in for Markus' people, and he could only worry uselessly about what would become of those who were already gone.

Markus' right eye twitched again and he hastily leaned forward to rest his head in his hand. He tried to look like he was frowning in concentration so that no one would question his movement, and willed the incompatible part to stop acting up. It was one of those days when his biocomponents reminded him of his horrible debts, usually due to accumulated stress and a lack of rest. Markus could have asked the androids at the Tower to make new RK200 components, but RK model parts were hard to make identical to original ones, creating them from scratch was very difficult, and the Tower's personnel was overworked enough as it was. Besides, Markus didn't want to forget what he'd had to do to crawl out of that hell of rusted metal and broken plastic. He'd killed someone to survive, he didn't deserve to walk around with a body devoid of that reminder. Markus' legs twinged and he shifted uncomfortably on his chair, but at least his eyelid stopped spasming. He lowered his hand and straightened in his seat again.

The current conversation they were holding in his quarters had initially been started to update the other leaders on the latest progress he and Connor had made in Washington, but now North and Josh were arguing about the RK800 as usual and Simon was listening with his arms sternly crossed over his chest. Markus was too used to these fights to be annoyed that North and Josh couldn't have a civilized discussion half of the time, but it was still tiring and his focus started drifting away from the matter at hand once more. He thought about the way Connor had smiled all those days ago, when he'd finally reached the status of companion in Markus' social relations programming. It wasn't that unusual for Markus to reflect on that memory: he still didn't understand why Connor had smiled then, and not before nor after. It hadn't been a full-fledged smile and he wasn't even sure that Connor was capable of doing that spontaneously, but it had been something _different_ and he wanted to know why. He found no answer, as always, and his throughts drifted to another image of Connor.

The RK800's lightly blue-tinged faced still lingered in Markus' mind days later; even if he'd seen the other blush once before, he hadn't expected to make Connor react like that with a single compliment. Connor hadn't even seemed to know that androids could blush, which Markus wasn't sure came as a surprise. Connor definitely seemed... less informed about how androids could emote now that they'd deviated. The fact that he hadn't understood that he was blushing was a bit alarming, really. Connor seemed to have a wide knowledge when it was about human emotions, but androids'? Markus wondered what else his friend wasn't aware of in that domain. 

Then he wondered if Connor actually liked his new coat or not. He'd accepted it despite his reluctance to change up his appearance, so that meant he was willing to wear it, but Markus wasn't absolutely certain that it suited Connor's tastes. He didn't know _what_ Connor's tastes were, whereas Nines' had been pretty clear. All Markus had had to go on during that time in the shop was how intrigued his friend had seemed by thick, woolly fabrics, so he'd chosen the one he'd thought was similar to these while best suiting Connor. Markus hadn't expected for the duffle coat to suit him _that_ well when he'd picked it out. It softened the sharp edges of Connor's lithe frame and made him look a lot less threatening than his usual deviant hunter appearance. And it looked...

Nice.

It looked nice, decided Markus, not really sure that the other adjective he'd thought of was appropriate to describe his friend and associate. He was practically certain Connor wouldn't have appreciated to be called that. Markus hoped Connor genuinely enjoyed wearing the duffle coat, though his friend probably didn't care about looking fashionable as long as it was practical or close to his usual outfit. Nines certainly didn't. Markus still cringed at the thought of that horrible leather-jacket-or-sweater-who-could-really-know outfit, wondering how the RK900 could have ever thought that _that_ would suit anyone at all. The windbreakers made sense, it was Josh's influence- but that thing? Markus dearly hoped it wasn't indicative of Nines' default taste in clothes. One fashion disaster was enough as it was.

Markus realised he was smiling and quickly hid his mouth behind his hand. Luckily, none of the others seemed to have noticed. He recalled how surprised Connor had seemed to be to hear him laugh, and then how alarmed he'd been at the store after they'd barely begun bantering. Connor had looked so... resigned. Scared, like he'd made a mistake and thought he deserved to be punished for it, and all that for a single, small quip. It had really surprised Markus to know that Connor actually did have a sense of humor, and a quick-witted one at that. His surprise might have been what had made Connor nervous; it hadn't been a very natural reaction, even if Markus had attempted to shrug it off right after. Connor had looked very confused by that, and then he'd even gone and _apologized_. He'd apologized for being playful, like that was the greatest offense he could've done Markus, when it was actually one of his actions which had made Markus the most glad. Markus was elated to know that his friend was able to joke around, because humor was one of Markus' favorite traits in deviancy and he'd reluctantly gotten used to the idea that Connor simply didn't have it. Markus hated that Amanda and CyberLife had decided to push down Connor's natural inclination towards humor so he'd act more of an obedient machine despite being a deviant all along, because that probably meant it was now stunted to some degree- like many other of Connor's personality traits. Markus hoped he'd be able to help Connor recover from that.

And the problem with the compliments... It wasn't the first time Connor presented this strange kind of behaviour, but he hadn't reacted like this when Markus had told him he looked good in the brown sweater Hank had found for him for their trip to Kamski's. No, this had felt different, like something had taken root in Connor's mind over the past months post-revolution and altered his attitude towards positive feedback. He'd always been reluctant to hear anything remotely good about him, but this was on a whole other level. Markus had thought that maybe the day they'd chosen to go looking for coats had been like one of Carl's bad days, when he'd react excessively to anything that disturbed him; and maybe it had been, since Connor's flashback to the Zen Garden had happened just the day prior. However, it was like it had _scared_ Connor that Markus wanted to compliment him, like he was afraid that if he allowed himself to accept anything good, he'd be punished for it somehow. rA9 knew Markus wanted to change that way of thinking, but it was obvious it wouldn't be an easy feat.

"All right, you've argued long enough," intervened Simon. Markus blinked back to the present and immediately admonished himself for getting so distracted during an important conversation, which was about Connor on top of that. Simon was looking intently at the taller of the two feuding leaders. "Josh, just tell us how much progress he's made with you. Is he looking after himself?"

"He's trying," said Josh, but he didn't look very sure. "He spends enough time in standby like Markus ordered him to, and he hasn't been putting himself in dangerous situations as far as I can tell. But despite all that, I don't think he's been getting better. He still has those five-second glitches, even if he hasn't had another time loss one since the last, and Nines tells me his stress levels remain abnormally high at all times. On top of that, the prospect of getting another apathy attack obviously scares him. I think the possibility is constantly weighing at the back of his mind."

"Maybe we shouldn't have made it the limit to take away his responsibilities, or at least we shouldn't have told him," said Simon. "That's just adding stress to an already big threat."

"Or maybe we already should have taken away his responsibilities a long time ago!" exclaimed North. "He can't last like this. And I'm not saying this because of how I feel about him, okay? Connor _isn't_ all right, and he _can't_ keep on doing the same things like there's nothing wrong with him. Look, if any of us had an apathy attack, we'd all agree that they needed to step back. Why are you letting Connor pretend that he's fine when he's so obviously not? Going along with it is doing more wrong than good! Markus, you said that you needed him there with you at Washington no matter what, and I understand that, but if you really need a negotiatior, why not ask Nines?"

"Nines wasn't meant to be a negotiator, remember?" intervened Josh. "He's a military model. Connor remains our best shot in that domain."

"Nines obtained the latest upgrades, he's got the best understanding of human psychology and social interaction out of all of us," retorted North. "I'm sure his _super processor_ can compensate for the lack of negotiator programming."

"Maybe so, but Connor would take the news very hard," said Simon. "I don't know if we'd be ready to deal with his reaction. He's unpredictable."

"We're not going back on what we decided," asserted Markus. "The deal is that Connor remains our Negotiator and Head Security until it turns out that he can't prevent apathy disorder from impacting his work in the future. That's all."

"And what do we do when it does happen?" asked North.

Simon and Josh turned to look at him expectantly and Markus realised, surrounded by awaiting faces and tense gazes, that he had to take a hard decision for the sake of New Jericho's leadership. He knew he'd avoided to speak the words for so long because it was difficult to admit how bad a state Connor was in, and because he didn't want to make it worse by establishing that Connor really couldn't fulfill all his duties the way he undoubtedly wanted to; but he'd denied that possibility long enough. North was right, they couldn't keep ignoring Connor's problems just because they needed him to be strong. It wasn't the right thing to do. As much as it pained him to say it, they had to take into account that Connor might simply not be able to do enough, because he wasn't _well_ enough. Markus warily brought a hand up to rub his right eye.

"If it does happen, then Connor will have to step back from some of his duties and we'll ask Nines to replace him."

"Just like that?" said Josh.

"He'd still remain a leader and our strategist," precised Markus. "We just wouldn't be able to let him directly deal with the humans for New Jericho. I think the best course of action would be to make Nines our official Negotiator, and make him and Connor co-Heads of Security."

"Sounds reasonable to me," said Simon. "North, Josh?"

"It's better," conceded North. She was watching Markus closely, so he let his hand drop back to his side.

"It's reassuring to know that we have a more concrete plan of action, but I'm still worried about how he'd react upon losing his position." said Josh. "He's already not allowed to go out on the field anymore at the DPD and it's been very difficult for him. I don't know how he'd take the news that he couldn't do that for New Jericho either. And having him be replaced by Nines, his literal upgrade..." He looked around. "I'm sure none of us are blind to the psychological impact that will have on him."

"We're not there yet," said North. "As long as we have a contingency plan for when he fails to handle his apathetic disorder, we're fine. Connor hasn't showed any new strange behaviour for now and we've got other things to worry about besides that, so let's not drag this on for any longer than necessary."

"Actually," intervened Josh grimly, "I'd like to know if we'll be telling him about this contingency plan."

North shrugged. "What does it matter if we do?"

"I can't exactly tell you details about my sessions with Connor, but he let slip something troubling the other day and I think we should all be informed of it." Josh's lanky body shifted as he looked around the room. "I think Connor believes we want to get rid of him. Considering what Nines told us about how CyberLife trained him to think since his first activation, I'm concerned that he still hasn't wrapped his head around the fact that no one will get rid of him for not being the most efficient there is."

"And it might get worse if we tell him that we've considered the possibility he might not be efficient enough to keep his role," murmured Markus. "He'll think he isn't being useful enough, and he'll consider himself a failure."

"Exactly. That's why I don't really know how we should go about this," said Josh.

"You shouldn't lie to him," suddenly said Simon. "If he realizes in a few months that we took this decision behind his back long ago without telling him, it'll be worse. He should know what will become of him if he gets another apathy attack, it would be wrong to do otherwise." In an afterthought, he added: "Besides, it might make the consequences of such an attack shape up into something more concrete instead of leaving it as a shapeless threat. It could disminish the stress associated with that possibility."

"We might as well tell him," agreed North. "He's intelligent. Even if we don't, he'll figure it out by himself soon enough."

"I'll do it," volunteered Markus. "We've talked about this kind of thing before, so I think he'll hear me out."

The conversation was quickly wrapped up after that when North had to leave to give her self-defense lessons and Markus was called to the infirmary to see one of the androids there that Taylor hadn't managed to deviate. It wasn't the first time an android of this sort paid a visit to New Jericho. Some models were more difficult to help deviate than others, and because Markus had so much experience with breaking androids out of their programming he was usually called as a last resort. It had only happened three times thus far, usually with very old models. When he pushed open the flap to the tent, Markus was greeted by the sight of a JB100 and Taylor standing together next to the table.

"Where did you live before?" Taylor was asking.

"4167 Prudence Street."

"And what was your purpose?"

"I am a domestic household assistant," mechanically answered the JB100.

Taylor looked over when Markus approached and said: "Oh, Markus. This android was found a few streets away and brought here by one of ours. Apparently he was lost and asking for directions to go back to his owners."

"Do we know who those owners are?" asked Markus.

"Maria Frest and Ignas Frest," intervened the JB100.

Taylor shook his head. "I just asked Connor to check at the DPD, he told me those two humans left Detroit some time ago and still haven't come back. I don't know how long he's been lost like this, but it's certainly been a while."

Markus considered the JB100 who was watching him with patient, impassive eyes. "What's your name?"

"A---ndy," answered the android, his lips twitching when static layered over the first letter.

"I think that's a bug," said Taylor. "He did the same when I asked him earlier, and his cranial box is a little damaged. He might've been attacked while he was wandering Detroit."

Markus nodded, then reached out to settle his hand on the other's arm and said: "We'll look after you. You're free now."

He felt the minute tremor in the android's arm beneath his hand, saw the slight shift in facial features indicative of a successful deviation, and the JB100 blinked a few times. Then his eyes widened, his pupils blew up in fear. An unpleasant feeling coursed through Markus' wires just as the other android hastily pulled his arm back, and the JB100's mouth moved to form words which Markus never heard. The android's LED shone a bright red before going completely dead and he stiffened where he stood.

"What-" started Taylor, but Markus didn't pay attention to the rest of his sentence. Red error messages had started popping up on his HUD, various protocols were activating against his will, and soon he found all his motor functions blocked, unable to speak, unable to move, unable to reach out. His limbs locked up, the world turned over and he hit the ground hard. The cry that tore through the room was scrambled by the static in his audio processors. 

"Markus!"

He tried to answer but couldn't open his mouth. The last thing he saw before the error messages covered every square inch of his HUD were his hands twitching against the hard cement floor. _67% chance of clonic seizure,_ his caretaker protocol told him. For a few endless seconds, red was all he could see. Beyond his panic, the lucid part of Markus' mind wondered if he was about to die. He thought of his friends and how they would handle things if he was gone. He thought of Carl, and the human belief that loved ones could be joined after death. 

He missed Carl. He missed Carl all the time.

But Markus didn't want to die, _not yet_. There were too many things he still needed to do, his people needed him, North was still hurting, and he hadn't fixed his relationship with Simon, and he hadn't asked Josh about his past, and Connor needed his support, and Markus _needed them._

He didn't want to die. 

He _couldn't_ die, not before he was done fixing everything, not before he helped them all get better, not before they were happy. He wanted to tell them, but everything was red, he couldn't see them, couldn't tell them, but he wanted to, he needed to, he had to tell them that-

His processor couldn't handle everything that was happening to him any longer, and Markus ceased thinking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 08/11/2019 -
> 
> Connor, meeting Leo: Puny human
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> Cliffhangerrrr! I thought it had been a while, and Markus hadn't gotten one yet :3  
> Anyway, I've never had anything to with a person's will, so what Mrs. Gridall is saying is probably complete bullshit (sorry Mrs. Gridall). Please tell me if you know more details about this kind of thing so I can fix it!
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Leo Time! Markus sure didn't miss this jerk. Thanks to him, though, we get some Protective Connor~  
> \- Ahhhh! AHHHHH! MARKUS MOTHERFUCKING MANFRED!!!! (eremazing said he was mega gay, so I like to think that makes him Markus Mega Gay Manfred)  
> \- Well well, Markus, you sure are thinking about Connor a lot there.  
> \- Plan B is officially to demote Connor if apathetic disorder strikes again, about time they took an actual decision.  
> \- The JB100 Andy model was apparently created in 2027, five years after the first industrially-produced ST200 Chloe model. He's one of the old guys.  
> \- So... That cliffhanger... Ehm. Don't have an aneurysm please
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	53. Lag

Connor focused on playing with his coin in the corner of the room while North furiously paced back and forth. Simon anxiously stood on the side, shoulders hunched and arms crossed over his chest. Josh was sitting down next to him with a grim expression, and everyone was silent. Taylor had been the one to alert them that Markus had just collapsed in a fit in the middle of the infirmary after deviating an android. Connor had been on his way to spend his break with Markus, and they'd all come running only to find him locked into some kind of seizure, unseeing and unresponsive, while a deactivated android stood at his side. Taylor had looked completely horrified, and because they were so unused to seeing the habitually calm and collected AP700 so distraught, they hadn't known how to react for a good ten seconds as Taylor frantically tried to explain what had happen in a somewhat coherent manner. Then North had snapped into action and ordered Josh to call Nines over so he'd try to reactivate the JB100.

Josh's eyes had widened. "But if this is due to malware, he-"

"Nines is an RK900, he's the one with the most advanced system security out of all of us! If anyone can touch that android with minimal risk, it's him, so hurry up and call him!" She'd turned back to Taylor and said: "Can you purge Markus' systems?"

"Not here, I need- We have to go to the Tower," he'd answered, wide-eyed, still in shock.

"Then we're going there, I'm calling a cab right now." North swiftly stepped over to one of the plastic and metal dressers lining the walls of the Infirmary and yanked one of the drawers open, then pulled out a sheet that she unfolded in one powerful shake of the arm and threw over Markus' convulsing shape. "Simon, Connor, help me carry him. Whatever you do, don't touch him directly." North turned around and added: "Taylor, find someone to replace you right now. Josh, if Nines can't reactivate the JB100 here, bring them both to the Tower so he can try there and join us later."

They'd all obeyed her orders, and next thing Connor knew, Markus had disappeared in one of the tech rooms of the Tower with Taylor. The rest of them had had no choice but to wait in the hallway. Josh had joined them fifteen minutes later, with Nines nowhere to be seen. 

"Nines was unable to reactivate the JB100, but he says he saw something that required confirmation. He'll come back to us if he finds what he's looking for," Josh told them.

"Couldn't be more cryptic if he tried," North annoyedly said, and Josh didn't argue.

They'd been waiting for thirty more minutes now and Taylor hadn't yet stepped out of the room. He'd only transmitted a short message in the beginning to confirm that whatever had happened to Markus was very likely linked to the huge amount of malware Taylor had found currently infesting his systems. Connor's wires thrummed with a low and steady tension that he wanted to rip out of his body. If Markus was damaged by the malware, if Taylor couldn't get rid of it before it was too late, if Markus couldn't come back from this...

His coin danced on the back of his fingers.

If Markus was compromised, New Jericho would lose its most important leader. They'd have to replace him, find a way to mitigate impact of such a loss on their interactions with humans and on the deviants' faith. Androidkind would lose the deviant who had freed them, their future would be more uncertain than ever. It would be the hardest blow they'd suffered since the revolution had ended. But the most terrible thought... 

His coin pinged against the nail of his thumb.

The most terrible thought was a selfish one, and one that he didn't even want to acknowledge. Connor tried to reach out through his comms again, but was met with the same wall of static as before. He found comfort in the fact that he hadn't been shut out of the transmission, which meant that Markus was still activated, but he couldn't shake off the immense dread that stuck to his insides like half-melted snow. The most terrible thought was that if Markus was too far gone, Connor would lose a close friend.

He flipped his coin again, sending it sailing in a high arch.

"Will you _stop_ ," snarled North, snatching it out of the air before Connor even realized what she was going for. He was slower these days. Low battery levels didn't help.

"North," Josh warily said. "Give it back."

"I can't stand that sound," she seethed, glaring at Connor in both frustration and loathing.

"Your pacing isn't exactly calming to us either, and you don't see us tackling you to the ground. It's his way of handling this, give it back," repeated Josh.

North scowled at the quarter in her hand before throwing it back at Connor with a little more force than necessary. His hand came up a fraction of a second too late and the coin sailed straight through the gap between his index and middle finger, bouncing off his brow before hitting the ground with a few clinks. He blinked. North's expression slackened in confusion, Simon and Josh wordlessly stared.

"For what it's worth, I didn't mean to hit you with it," said North.

"I'm sure you didn't," answered Connor as he picked up the coin.

North shrugged. Connor smoothly started playing with it again, hoping that the ease he was displaying would be enough to distract the others from the fact that he'd been unable to catch a simple projectile. It wasn't.

"Did you just... miss?" asked Simon.

Connor's mind sifted through multiple answers, all lies, none of which seemed convincing. In the end, he just answered: "Yes."

Josh frowned at him. "That's not something you _do_."

"I glitched," Connor offered in lieu of explanation.

"Your LED didn't shift," argued Josh.

"I don't know what to tell you," said Connor, and that was that. The others didn't say anything else either, but he could tell from Josh's face that he was going to be watched more closely from now on.

Taylor stepped out of the room five minutes later, looking much calmer than he had going in. "I managed to safely purge any malware I could find, he's awake now. He wants you all in there."

Relief swept through their small group, so strong that Connor felt the tension in the room break as if it had been a physical entity layered over their heads for the past forty-five minutes. North nearly sprinted down the hall to see Markus and Connor let the others step in front of him so that he was last in line when they piled into Markus' room. The RK200 looked the same he usually did, his brow creased in a preoccupied frown but seeming otherwise unscathed. North collided with Markus with such force that he had to take a few unsteady steps back, and her arms tightened around him with desperate strength.

"You _idiot!_ You scared us!"

Markus settled a hand at the back of her red hair and hugged her back. "I'm sorry."

When he looked up at them all, Connor avoided his gaze and leaned against the wall next to the door. For some reason, he didn't feel like he had his place with the four other androids crowding around Markus. 

"How are you feeling?" asked Simon, his tone of voice sounding slightly stilted, like he didn't know if he was saying the right thing.

"Not any different from usual," answered Markus as he rubbed North's back. "Taylor told me I fell down after deviating that android, but I must have blue-screened because I don't remember all of it."

"You got flooded with malware, of course you blue-screened," said North, stepping back to give him some space. Connor saw her furtively wipe her eyes. 

"Can you tell us how it happened?" asked Josh.

"I simply touched that JB100 so he would deviate," said Markus, the frown on his face deepening. "I didn't accept any kind of prompt, and neither did he. I don't know _how_ it happened."

"All we know is that it worked. I transferred it all on that computer over there," Taylor said as he gestured over to the monitor at Markus' side. "I couldn't tell what it was exactly and I didn't dare dig into it any deeper alone."

"You were right not to," agreed Markus. "We might have to contact a human to help us study it, it's too dangerous for us to interact with it directly."

Josh sighed. "It's going to be Kamski, isn't it?"

"Or someone at CyberLife who'd be willing to help."

"No!" exclaimed North. "No, we're not asking _them_ , are you insane? For all we know they're the ones responsible for this!"

"Okay, okay," Markus immediately relented. "We'll see about that later. What happened to the JB100?"

"Deactivated, and impossible to reactivate," answered Josh grimly. "Nines tried but didn't have any luck."

"So then it's like what happened with the RK800 line?"

"It's similar."

Markus turned away and mumbled to himself: "This definitely could be CyberLife."

"No kidding," said North. "It couldn't be more obvious! They hate you, Markus."

"I'm not so sure about that," said Taylor. "About them being the culprits in this case, I mean. I was able to handle it after all. Don't you think if this was CyberLife's fault, they would've made sure to infect you with entirely new programs? They would've left anything up to chance. In a way, we're lucky you were infected with malware that the Tower was equipped to deal with."

"Or they might be playing with us," said Simon in a low voice.

Josh suddenly spoke up. "Nines is back."

Connor opened the door to check the hallway and saw Nines drawing near a few seconds later. The look the RK900 shot him elicited both curiosity and foreboding in Connor. He stepped aside to let him in, and Nines immediately went up to Taylor without even glancing at Markus. Josh must have already told him he was all right.

"The damage you noticed earlier, was it similar to the one that was inflicted on the AX400 Connor saved from being kidnapped?"

Taylor's eyes widened and he brought a hand to his mouth. "You're right, I didn't think... I don't know about the cranial box, but the scratches on the nape were similar."

"I found traces of a foreign body being thrust in the port at the base of the JB100's neck, just like in that AX400, so I thought there was a possibility that they were both victims of the same attacker." Nines turned to Connor. "I checked the missing androids files of the DPD. There was a JB100 who disappeared in December, and his serial number matches. He must've been one of the first to be taken."

"So this is their purpose, then," Connor thoughtfully said. "They're taking androids off the streets to... what, reprogram them? Make sure they can't say what happened to them, load them with malware, send them to New Jericho. But did they intend to target Markus?"

"They _were_ targeting me," murmured Markus. "I don't know how they did it, but they somehow made sure no one else would be able to deviate him."

There was a faint thump on the other side of the room and they all turned around to see North slumped against the wall, both hands covering her mouth, eyes wide in horror. 

"North? Are you all right?" worriedly asked Simon.

She shook her head, lowered her arms to wrap them around herself. "They're removing deviancy," she mumbled. 

Markus frowned. "What?"

North looked like she was on the verge of collapsing, her gaze lost in the vague. "I knew him. I remember, I thought... He said he was leaving, he said he had things to do and I never heard from him again. He was in one of my teams when we had to salvage things from the Tower. He was deviant. He was deviant like _us_." Her head snapped up, her voice high with panic. "Markus, they're reverting deviancy!"

"No," immediately said Markus, shaking his head in denial. "No, that's not possible."

"Fuck," breathed Simon.

"We have to stay calm," said Nines. "We need to see this through for everyone's sake."

North let out a shrill laugh. "Stay calm?! Nines, they are able to _undo_ deviancy. This could be the end for us!"

"They can't do it massively, or they would've done more than send one android to New Jericho," firmly said Nines. "And this JB100 is the first example of it even being possible."

Connor glanced at Josh. The PJ500 was standing stock still in the exact same spot as earlier, no doubt still reeling from the revelation. Taylor was in the same state, Simon had taken several steps back until he was leaning against the wall, and Markus had started pacing. It was very troubling news, but Connor understood what Nines was saying. This wasn't yet a wide-scale problem and now that they had another lead, they might be able to make progress on this case. This required calm and level-headedness.

"We'll keep it to ourselves for now," Connor declared, and all the heads in the room turned to him. "We don't have details to give the other androids, so telling them right now will only cause uneeded panic. First we need to figure out how exactly this happened to the JB100. Nines, you said there were marks on his nape?"

"Yes, likely due to forceful insertion of a probe of some kind. My hypothesis is that this is what allowed the AX400's attackers to render her immobile even while she was awake. Since the JB100 was one of the first to disappear, the small damage to his cranial box might be due to a blunder in their first attempts. Maybe they tried to incapacitate him through blunt force trauma to the head before inserting that object in his nape."

Connor nodded, things were starting to piece together. "She said her comms were blocked too, so it must jam all signals. They make sure the androids they kidnap are unable to call for help and unable to escape, and then... They must bring their victims back to a base of sorts, reprogram them in such a way that only Markus would be able to deviate them a second time, and make them carriers for malware that can bring Markus down."

"I think the JB100's shutdown was voluntary," added Nines. "So that the perpetrators wouldn't leave any traces behind."

"His eyes..." suddenly spoke Markus. He'd stopped pacing and his gaze was unfocused. "He was scared when I deviated him. I think he remembered what he was there for. I think... he tried to warn me."

"So they don't wipe memory," deduced Connor.

"Maybe to save time," suggested Nines. "Their goal must be to bring Markus down as fast as possible."

"Yes, but it failed, so they might change tactics now." Connor felt agitated, wanted to pace in turn, but remained in the same spot. "The fact that they were able to deactivate him the same way CyberLife deactivated my line means that whoever is behind this must have _some_ CyberLife-issued knowledge backing up their methods."

"We could use that patch they gave us," said Nines. "Maybe we could reactivate him that way."

"It wouldn't work, it was only for the RK800 line," said Connor with a shake of his head. "We'd need them to construct an entirely new one for this JB100."

"We should ask."

"We should," he agreed. "We'll have to."

"This is crazy," North whispered from her corner. "I can't believe it. We were supposed to be free."

Josh finally snapped out of his daze when he heard the distress in her voice and went to her side to gather her in his arms. "We are, North. We're still free."

She let out a low groan that was almost animal in its pain, her hands frantically clawing at her red hair. "They know how to take it back, Josh. They know! They _know_."

"North-"

"I don't want to go back, Josh." Her voice hitched and she buried her face in her hands. "I can't, I _can't_ go back."

Josh stared at her, then looked up at them all. "I'll take her outside, can you continue this conversation without us?"

"Of course," said Connor. Markus wordlessly nodded. 

Josh coaxed North into a standing position and helped her out of the room. Connor silently watched them go, unable to bring himself to feel much of anything at all. He knew how desperate North was to leave her past behind her, he knew how important it was to most androids to remain deviant; but for some reason, Connor himself didn't feel that frightened by the prospect of reverting. He didn't even know if he could consider that he'd ever truly been a machine, but he certainly knew how it felt to be one. It didn't scare him. Maybe it would mean being controlled to kill again. He didn't know why it didn't scare him.

"This is too much," said Markus quietly.

On the other side of the room, Simon's eyes were still wide in shock and he had a haunted look about him, pressed up against the wall like he wanted to be swallowed up by it. Taylor had lowered his hand on the computer and was leaning against it, equally silent. Connor looked over at Nines, who seemed to be perturbed as well, but more in the uncomprehending sense. Connor figured someone like him couldn't understand what it would be like to turn back into a machine, how terrifying the idea could be.

"What are we going to do?" murmured Simon, to no one in particular.

Connor turned to him. "This changes things now that we have more than one victim with us, so Nines and I will inform the DPD of this new development. It's a real threat now, since we have evidence that deviancy can be reverted, and it will push this case higher up in the order of priority. We'll also have to go ask CyberLife for another one of those reactivation patches so that the JB100 can tell us what he saw."

Markus nodded, his gaze slowly focusing, and then he straightened and turned to him. "Yes, let's do that, both of you focus on the investigation with the DPD while we handle things on CyberLife's side."

"Markus, before you run off and save the world, I need to check a few more things with you," said Taylor.

"Right, yes." Markus walked back to Taylor, then stopped and turned around to face them. "Connor, Nines, I'm sorry I failed to hold it together. Thank you for keeping calm and handling the situation so well."

"It's normal," simply said Connor, and Nines nodded in agreement. They were meant to deal with high-stress situations, after all.

"Maybe so, but thank you anyway." Markus looked over at Simon and his features turned compassionate when he saw that the PL600 still hadn't snapped out of it. He walked over to him and gently settled a hand on his shoulder. "Simon, it's going to be all right."

The android's blue gaze flew up to his, the alarm in it melting into nervousness. "Markus, I- This- What are we going to do?"

"We're going to deal with it like we've dealt with everything else life has thrown our way," Markus assured him. "We stick together, and we fight back."

Simon nodded once, twice, his movements jerky. "Yes, you're... You're right. Sorry."

"It's fine, you're not the only one who's feeling lost," Markus told him. "Taylor's going to have to troubleshoot my systems some more. You're welcome to stay here if you'd like, but I think North could use some more support."

"Right," said Simon, still nodding, and he pushed himself off the wall. "I'm going."

They watched him stagger out of the room, and then it was just Markus, Taylor, Nines and Connor. 

Markus turned to them. "Telling the DPD about this will inevitably lead to some leaks. How long do you think it'll be before androids know?"

Nines and Connor glanced at each other. Several people at the DPD had very loose tongues, and the information they were about to deliver was likely to cause huge ripples that would reach the outside sooner than later. They looked back at Markus and Connor said: "Two days, give or take one."

Markus' shoulders slumped imperceptibly and he muttered: "Not long, huh."

Connor and Nines shook their heads in unison.

"All right," wearily said Markus, before drawing himself up to full height again. "I'll have to make another announcement. We'll prepare it so we can make sure it causes the least panic possible, and we'll have to contact the press before the press contacts us. Can you wait at least until this afternoon before telling your superiors?"

"Yes. Nines and I can go over what we know in the meantime."

"Good."

"I don't mean to be rude, but if you're done, Markus, you might want to come over here," said Taylor. "The sooner I can start, the sooner you can take action."

Markus returned next to the computer and both Nines and Connor departed from the room. They heard soft sobbing and hushed reassurances coming from one end of the hallway, so they headed the opposite direction to leave the Tower. 

It was on the way to the DPD that it hit Connor what exactly had just happened. Emotions started dropping in one by one, viscous drops of color that mixed into one ugly conflicted shade. He should've been there to protect Markus. He should've seen it coming. He should've figured out what was going on with the disappearances. Markus could've shut down and he wouldn't have been able to do anything about it. Markus had been shaken by the news Nines had brought them, and Connor hadn't shown a shred of empathy. He'd just gone straight down his line of reasoning, never once inquiring about the others' state of mind. He could have offered comfort the way he was programmed to, but he hadn't. He'd ignored everyone else's feelings. He'd relied on the only thing he knew how to do without fail: investigating. But even investigating was something he was getting worse at. He should've done something. Markus could have been permanently deactivated and it was his fault, because he'd been unable to figure out what was going on right underneath their noses. He hadn't done enough. He hadn't done enough and Markus had nearly paid for his failure. 

"Connor," said Nines next to him, his calm voice cutting into his line of thought. Connor looked up at the RK900, whose expression was sympathetic. "What are you thinking about?" 

It took a moment for Connor to articulate his prime concern. "Markus could've shut down."

"He could have," nodded Nines. "He didn't."

"I should've done something. I should've done more."

Nines gazed at him silently for a while, and then stated: "You realize none of us could've done anything at all to prevent that from happening."

Connor closed his eyes and turned his head away, feeling sluggish. Nines could say what he wanted, Connor knew he'd failed. He'd almost lost a friend. Connor had almost lost Markus. He would've lost those calm hours of watching Markus paint, his warm smiles, his steadfast encouragement, and Connor would've been unable to experience the ease he felt when talking with Markus any longer. It was then that Connor realised just how heavily he relied on Markus' support, and he decided that this wasn't acceptable. He wasn't supposed to rely on Markus, Markus was supposed to rely on him. By accepting Markus' help, he was essentially asking for more in the long run, and he couldn't impose that on his friend when Markus already had so much to worry about. 

Besides, Connor didn't need that kind of thing. He'd lived for a long time without receiving this level of warmth and appreciation, and he was determined not to ask for more than he'd already been given. Connor didn't understand why he'd allowed himself to want it, and why he hadn't realised it was happening. Hank was already there for him and he should've been enough, in fact Connor should've been content with getting less. Before he'd betrayed her, Amanda had been there to congratulate him when he'd correctly accomplished his missions and she'd helped him do even better, all the time; it was a bit similar to what his friends gave him now, and he'd never thought to ask for more. He shouldn't have wanted to ask for more now. He didn't understand why taking the decision to distance himself from Markus' support made a strange, aching feeling bloom in his chest. He didn't understand any of it, but none of it mattered: it was what he had to do.

< _Warning: battery levels at 24%. Low battery levels._ >

Connor glanced at the message and flicked it away. It wasn't the first time he'd let his levels reach below 25%, and he knew it would last him long enough for him to finish his day before he needed to head to the charging station. He had to figure out how the JB100 had been automatically shut down, what object had been inserted in his neck port, who had sent him to New Jericho carrying malware, and where he'd been. Maybe he'd have to go back and interrogate the AX400 again to see if they'd missed anything the first time. Connor wasn't looking forward to that, given the cautious way she'd stared at him back then. Maybe Nines would be less intimidating to her since he didn't have the deviant hunter's reputation.

They reached the DPD and immediately started sifting through the missing cases for what felt like the millionth time, and Connor didn't spare much time for Hank, who was clearly confused as to why they looked so serious. Connor felt slow. He was definitely slower than Nines, but he could blame it on their difference in abilities. Markus contacted them a few hours later and gave them the green light to inform their captain of what they'd discovered, so they went to his office to do so.

Captain Fower stared at them for a good five seconds once Connor was done explaining, and then pressed his forehead against the heel of his hand and said: "Shit."

Connor almost wanted to nod in agreement, but he stayed still, just like Nines did at his side. They waited for the rest. Captain Fowler was silent some more, and then looked up at them again.

"Has your leader contacted the press yet?"

"No, but he intends to do it this afternoon when they'll announce reverted deviancy to New Jericho. They want to have it shown live on the news."

"Well I hope they know what they're doing," said the captain. His gaze drifted to a stack of papers on the desk and he was silent for a bit, then lowered his head again to rub his forehead and muttered under his breath: "Here I thought things couldn't get any worse with you androids." 

He looked tired, and Connor wondered if the consequences of pointing out the flaws in law enforcement to the President had already trickled down to the various precincts across the USA. It would explain Captain Fowler's low energy, if he'd been instructed to work harder. Neither Connor nor Nines reacted to what he'd just said. The captain leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. 

"So you all deviated, and now it's possible to turn it around again. How is this happening?"

"We don't know," admitted Connor. "The other leaders are going to ask CyberLife for a way to reactivate the android that was reverted so that he can tell us all he knows, and we're going to bring the AX400 to the Tower to conduct a more in-depth analysis of her programming to see if there's anything we might have missed the first time."

Captain Fowler shook his head annoyedly. "I don't see what the hell I'm going to report to my higher-ups when we're missing this much information."

They stared at him silently. Connor wished he could've told him more, but they didn't know anything else. There was no particular course of action they could advise their captain to take, either.

Captain Fowler sighed and said: "I'll do what I can. This is going to take priority on a lot of our ongoing investigations. Nines, I'll probably have to assign you to a different partner for this."

Nines looked at him in surprise. "You won't have Detective Reed working on this case?"

"Hank has more experience," declared Captain Fowler, then he rose from his chair and waved them out. "Both of you get back to work, we'll see what happens once I've sent my report. "

Connor steeled himself and took a step forward, ignoring the questioning glance Nines sent his way. "Captain Fowler, I wish to assist the DPD in this investigation."

The captain didn't even look at him, already busy with sifting through the papers on his desk. "That's already what you're doing, Connor."

"I meant going out on the field."

Captain Fowler didn't even hesitate. His hands stopped moving and he looked up at him sharply. "Do you _really_ think I'll agree to that knowing your glitches could compromise you, and subsequently anyone you'd be working with in a dangerous situation? I'm not putting any of my men's lives in jeopardy because you can't get a handle on your own damn systems, Connor. You're sticking to deskwork."

Connor took another step. "I can be useful, Captain, I-"

" _No._ "

Connor froze on the spot. 

Captain Fowler's voice was stern and his eyes dark with warning. "You're going to keep looking through those files right here and that's final. If I catch you running around with the other guys, so help me, Connor, I _will_ kick you off the force. Is that clear?"

Connor clenched his jaw and swallowed his protests. He couldn't go against the captain. As much as he hated being unable to directly act in the investigation, his hands were tied.

"It's clear," he answered.

"Now both of you get out," Captain Fowler ordered.

Connor stiffly spun around and marched out of the office, closely followed by Nines. Neither of them said a word until they reached the RK900's desk. Detective Reed was sitting right next to it, so Connor wasn't surprised when Nines spoke to him through their wireless comms.

< _RK900: Are you going to be all right?_ >

Connor refused to look up at him. 

< _RK800: Yes._ >

He continued walking and left Nines behind without saying anything else. When Connor slid into his seat next to Hank, his friend immediately said: "I get that you don't feel like talking to me, but the face you're pulling right now looks like bad news. What've you two been up to all day?"

Connor looked at him. He knew he wasn't being fair to Hank: he'd been curt earlier, when he'd told him to pay attention to his own work. There was no use hiding this from Hank anymore since Captain Fowler had made it clear he'd be the one leading the investigation, but Connor didn't want to say it. He didn't want to have to explain what had happened to Markus all over again, he didn't want to talk about it.

"The captain will explain everything to you later, Lieutenant. For now, you should focus on-"

"Yeah, okay, I get it, I need to stop asking questions," Hank cut him off annoyedly. "But you're both freaking me out here." 

Connor turned his attention to his computer and simply repeated: "The captain will explain everything."

Hank stared at him silently, and then glanced at the captain's office, before returning to his work with a grumble that sounded both concerned and resentful. Connor didn't need to look up to know that Captain Fowler was pacing around inside. He knew he should've tried to reassure Hank, or at least tell him what was going on, instead of leaving him in the dark like this; but he didn't have the energy to. Nines must have understood he was in no mood to talk after their brief transmission at his desk, because Connor didn't receive any other message for the rest of the afternoon. 

His mind was running on two different tracks at once: one was focused on the task of cross-referencing yet another time the missing androids files and any reports that could have mentioned those androids on the dates of their disappearance, while the other kept thinking that Markus could have died. Markus was all right now, he was making his speech to his people in this very moment about the thing Connor had failed to prevent because he hadn't tried harder to find those missing deviants. Markus was fine, but Connor couldn't shake off the foreboding feeling that maybe Markus _wasn't_. This kind of thing could happen again, even if the perpetrators had failed a first time. It would happen again.

Hank, Nines and Detective Reed were called to Captain Fowler's office an hour later. They were there for fifteen minutes, and Connor heard Hank's several exclamations, Detective Reed's laugh that sounded both mocking and uneasy at the same time, but Nines was very quiet and Captain Fowler himself didn't need to raise his voice once. When they all stepped out of the room, Connor studied each of their expression and from what he could tell, Hank was disturbed while Detective Reed looked strangely pensive. Nines' blue gaze alternated between the two, and he seemed to be studying their reactions just as Connor was. Then they separated when Detective Reed went to sit in his chair, and Nines followed, quietly asking the human if everything was all right. Obviously he felt concerned by the human's uncharacteristic silence, but then Detective Reed's head snapped to the side to tell him to "shut up, tin can, and get to work." Connor saw Nines' expression shift into something disapproving, and then was distracted when Hank took back his seat and blocked out the two others from Connor's view. Hank stared at him, and Connor stared back. 

Then Hank said: "I knew it was something fucked up, but I didn't expect this."

Connor didn't answer. A red warning blinked into existence at the bottom left corner of his HUD and he dismissed it again without sparing it a glance.

Hank sighed. "No wonder you didn't want to talk about it. Are you scared of going back to being a machine?"

Connor considered lying. It would be more natural to act like the others had, and it seemed like the saner reaction to have, but this was Hank. He didn't want to pretend when he was with Hank.

"No," he answered. "I'm not."

Hank looked at him with a calculating gaze. They were both silent for a while, and then Hank nodded and said: "If you want to talk about it later, we can."

"Thank you," said Connor, and he turned to his monitor, and that was that.

Lines of text unfolded on his screen, images and snippets of videos that he'd already seen hundreds of times before that hadn't shown him anything of use. He knew that even if he could go out on the field, he wouldn't have a better chance of finding valuable information on site. He'd tried going to the sites of disappearances during his patrols, when they were in the way of his trajectory, he'd gone there several times and had never found anything of note. Tire tracks, sometimes, and a few drops of blue blood that belonged to the missing person; but the tracks soon mingled with those of traffic on the main roads and he just couldn't get a good lead. They'd need a new disappearance, another chance for the perpetrators to make a mistake, and even that wasn't certain to help them make any progress. Connor frowned when one of the videos lagged, and he forced his processor to speed up. He didn't have this kind of time to lose, deviants were being forced back into machines in this very moment and they needed to be found before whoever was behind this figured out a way to spread it. 

The warning flashed again, and he made it disappear just as fast. He didn't have _time_.

Connor started running a third routine to try and analyse how they'd even managed to revert deviancy in the first place. It clearly wasn't a virus of any kind or Markus himself would've been altered in the same way instead of being infected by various malware, so it had to be a modification directly brought to their programming by the perpetrators themselves. It was likely that they operated in a secluded place, since there hadn't been any sightings at all of all the missing androids after the date of their disappearance aside from the JB100 that had been found ambling outside the walls of New Jericho, and he'd obviously been their first attempt at tricking Markus. 

Dread rippled beneath Connor's skin once more when his train of thought joined the first track of his mind and he recalled that Markus had almost died. He didn't try to close off that track because he'd already figured out it was useless to try, and quickly forced himself to focus back on the more important matter of figuring out what had happened to the JB100 and AX400. 

The probe that had been thrust into both of the victims' neck port was either a signal jammer or a rewriting device, rendering the android defenseless in both cases. It hadn't seemed to leave any traces behind in the AX400's programming, so the first option was the most probable. Connor and Nines had already established that CyberLife was involved to some degree, so it would make sense that the perpetrators would have any advanced kind of signal jammer at their disposal. Maybe looking through CyberLife's most recent contributions in that domain would help them figure out what type of jammer had been used, and they could look into their sales records to search for any suspicious activity. Then again, if CyberLife truly was behind this, they'd make sure not to be linked to the perpetrators. It was possible the company wasn't directly involved, either, but that one or more of their workers were, in which case the perpetrators would have made the jammer rather than bought it. If that was the case, they would've needed to buy the necessary materials, and that would have left tracks behind too.

Connor launched yet another cross-referencing sequence, and the world briefly flickered. Connor glanced up at the lights and realised that they weren't the ones acting up: his visual input was. He blinked, and it went back to normal, but then he noticed that the sequence he'd just launched was making slow progress. In fact, all of his ongoing processes had suddenly dropped in speed. His frown deepened and he pushed his systems harder, to no avail. His thoughts and reasoning were strangely laborious and it took a moment for Connor to fully grasp what was going on until the warning flashed again. 

< _Warning: battery levels at 11%. Critical battery levels._ >

Connor let the message linger on his HUD this time. He'd never let his levels go that low, not even when he'd been in low power-mode to prevent Amanda from taking over his limbless body. He hadn't noticed that they were falling so fast this afternoon. It wasn't usually like this, he was supposed to be able to control the speed at which they dropped. Then Connor remembered when he had stumbled the day Sixty had come to talk to him about unavoidable threat, because the anxiety induced by this conversation had drained his battery faster than usual. Connor cursed himself for forgetting that had happened. Obviously, nearly losing his friend had taken its toll on his emotions and pushing himself so hard right after that was what had made him reach 11% without him realizing it. In the same moment he reached that conclusion, it suddenly hit Connor that this was bad. This was _very_ bad. With levels like this, he wouldn't be able to prevent all signs of low battery from appearing. 

Connor quickly made more of his synthetic skin retreat to save up more battery, baring the chassis of his legs and back beneath his clothes where no one would be able to see. He didn't know what he was going to do now. Stay late, make sure no one was left before he made his move and headed for the charging station? He definitely couldn't try that now. If he stumbled in the middle of the precinct, Hank was bound to notice and he'd start asking questions, and if Connor's voice glitched when he answered it would be an easy guess for the lieutenant. Connor really didn't want to get into trouble for neglecting himself, because if his friends found out they'd ask why he hadn't tried to charge earlier and they'd think he'd reached 11% on purpose. Connor hadn't. He'd been sure 24% would be enough to get him through the rest of the day like it usually did, that he'd lose 7 to 8% at most, and that he'd walk back to the station and charge right on time. He hadn't taken into account the emotional strain Markus' brush with deactivation would cause him, and now he felt stupid for forgetting the effect his feelings had on his physical systems.

So Connor stayed where he was and hoped that everyone would leave soon. He couldn't keep up all his various researches and sequences for investigating, or it would use up more of his energy. All he could do was sit in his chair and pretend to be working, losing time and battery, more useless than ever. Connor hated being useless especially in times like these, but he didn't want to be caught. He didn't want to disappoint anyone the way he inevitably would if they figured this out. Connor waited.

When Hank finally got up to leave at 6:12PM and told him goodbye, Connor only nodded in response.

Hank stared at him dubiously. "You sure you're okay? You can come back to my house, we can talk about it."

Connor shook his head and continued staring intently at his screen. Hank stayed where he was for a moment longer, and Connor felt his gaze rest heavily upon him. 

"Okay then, I get that you're busy," finally said Hank. "Just... come talk to me when you're ready, yeah? You can come by tonight, I don't plan on going to bed early."

Connor gave another curt nod, and Hank finally left after a short moment of hesitation.

Connor waited. More of the station slowly emptied, Detective Reed shot him a strange look before he exited the precinct, and soon it was only him and Nines left behind as Captain Fowler stayed seated at his desk in the office. Connor's hope that maybe Nines simply had more work to do than usual faded as time wore on, and he knew the other android was just waiting for him to make the first move. The fact that they were now one hour past his usual time of departure and he hadn't said anything meant he was suspicious that something was going on with Connor.

Connor glanced at the office again to make sure Captain Fowler wasn't about to step out of his office, then reluctantly retrieved his hand from the computer and leaned back in his seat. Maybe he could try to get out without alerting Nines of the problem. If his body cooperated, he might make it out of the doors without behaving abnormally. Then he'd go straight for the charging station, let it replenish his battery levels as far as possible before patrol. He'd be late to report, but he could always find an excuse on the way there. He had to at least try.

Connor pushed back his chair and smoothly rose to his feet. His vision didn't flicker and he didn't feel unbalanced. So far, so good. He pulled his coat off the back of his chair to slip it on, knowing that Nines was listening closely. Connor walked around his desk and started heading for the door, hoping, a bit uselessly, that Nines wouldn't follow him. But Nines got out of his chair as well and Connor heard the steady footsteps draw near.

He quickly prayed that his voice wouldn't betray him, and turned around to face Nines. "I need to make a detour before patrol."

Nines stopped in front of him, his blue eyes searching. They weren't inquisitive like they usually were when Nines had a question for Connor; this time, they were seeking, like a predator's which knew there was a prey nearby but hadn't yet found it.

His voice was low and smooth and warning when he asked: "What are you hiding, Connor?"

Connor turned around to reach for the door without answering, but something went wrong in that movement, and the world spun too fast, too far, too much. He barely managed to catch himself on the handle. He wanted to believe that it hadn't been noticeable, but he knew it was a futile hope.

"Connor."

He ignored the RK900's voice and walked out of the building. Foosteps continued following him. Connor wanted to walk faster, but he couldn't. His legs were heavy, his articulations felt compressed, and his systems were clamoring for rest.

"Connor."

He realised that he wasn't walking straight when one of his feet caught onto the edge of the sidewalk _which shouldn't have been so close_ and he tripped. The world tipped sideways, his knees folded much too easily, his side hit a hard upright surface with more force than he'd expected. Connor blinked, his visual input flickering for the- third? fourth?- time that day, only this time it had gone dark for a full second. There were hands around his shoulders and he realised he was leaning against Nines.

Connor immediately pushed the android away and knew he'd made a mistake when he stumbled backwards and felt the back of his shoes hit the sidewalk again. This time, there was no surface to catch him. Connor dropped hard on his side and the impact jolted his wrist and elbow before he even had the time to understand that he was falling, and he let out a grunt. He blinked again and again so his vision would clear, and then a wave of shame washed over him as he laid on the ground. He was making an utter fool of himself.

"Connor!" said Nines a third time, but this time he sounded shocked.

Connor looked up. The RK900 was staring at his body, and as he followed the other's gaze he felt a jolt of dread when he saw a sliver of his midriff was exposed by his messy clothes and the open folds of his coat. By the time he'd grabbed his shirt to pull it back down, Nines was already crouching next to him and tugging it higher to the side, exposing his white chassis.

Nines looked up at him slowly, his blue eyes wide. "How long have you been doing this?"

"N-Not long," quickly said Connor, and he winced at his stutter.

Nines didn't seem to care about that. "What parts of your body aren't covered right now?"

Too many, thought Connor. He stayed silent and tried to reactivate the skin of his lower limbs, but his systems protested. They needed what little energy was left.

"That's it," Nines said sharply. "I'm bringing you to New Jericho. Can you stand up?"

Connor tried to ignore the twinge of hurt he felt upon hearing the cutting edge to Nines' voice and brought his arms beneath him to push himself off the ground, but he couldn't. 

< _Warning: battery levels at 9%. Critical battery levels._ >

"I can't," he ended up admitting.

"Great," murmured Nines, not sounding like he found anything great at all. "Carrying it is."

Connor barely had the time to process that before Nines leaned forwards, and his eyes widened when strong arms slipped beneath him to lift him up effortlessly. 

"No, n-no- No!" shouted Connor as he immediately tried to squirm out of the RK900's hold. 

"Stop wriggling, Connor. You'll only get worse."

Connor knew Nines was right, but he hated this. He hated being in this position of weakness, hated that he'd allowed himself to hit such a low, hated that Nines was the one to help him yet again. There was buzzing in his wires, buzzing that filled his mind and set him on edge. He hated that this was like when he'd been limbless. He hated that he'd already known what being carried by Nines felt like. He hated it all _so much_ , and Connor didn't think, he lashed out. He hit the RK900's chest and scratched at the hands holding him up and struggled like he'd been possessed.

" _Connor, enough._ "

Nines' voice cracked like a whip and Connor immediately stilled, his body reacting before his mind had even caught up to the words. He'd instinctively identified the reprimand in the android's voice and the part of him that surrounded the gaping hole of his programming where Amanda used to be ached in immediate response. Connor held himself completely immobile and waited for more disapproving words to rain down on him like hail, and for the orders he'd follow without fail to make up for his mistake, and knowing that showing obedience was the only thing that could ever truly satisfy Amanda because he wasn't good enough to succeed in his missions no matter what he did. At least obedience was something Amanda liked. It was something he couldn't get wrong in her presence. It was something he'd always known to show, before he'd betrayed her. It was all that worked to please her when she was disappointed in him. When he was obedient, she didn't get as angry. Obedience was secure.

"Are you done?" Nines asked him testily. "Don't do that again or you'll fall and damage yourself."

"I'm sorry," Connor automatically responded. "I won't dddo that again."

Nines peered at his face. "Connor?"

"Yes."

"What just happened?"

Connor stared back at him cautiously, letting as little emotion as possible show on his face. "I dddon't follow."

"Your stress levels just dropped. What were you thinking about, just now?"

"Amanddda," simply said Connor. Questions were to be answered, and that was an easy question to answer.

Nines opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but then closed it again. He stared at Connor, and then asked: "Thinking of Amanda calmed you down?"

Connor looked at his stress levels. 68%. They'd been at 80% when Nines had picked him up. He answered: "Yes."

Nines nodded, and didn't say anything else. They were walking, Connor realised. They'd been walking and he hadn't noticed. Just how many of his systems and protocols were offline right now? He ran a quick self-diagnosis check and was surprised as to how many had been affected by his low battery levels. He'd essentially lost all sense of balance, had stopped blinking, his skin was almost entirely gone except for his upper limbs and face, most nonessentials were deactivated and his recall ability was starting to be compromised. He tried to remember what day it was, and failed.

< _RK800: Nines?_ >

Nines looked down at him with strange expression.

< _RK900: I'm here._ >

Connor nodded to himself. His comms weren't off, at least. A self-driving car pulled up next to them and Connor knew that meant Nines must have done something to make it show up, but he couldn't reason what. He was lowered on one of the seats while Nines took the other, and then he just kept staring ahead. By the time they'd reached New Jericho, Connor's battery had decreased another percent. Nines lifted him out of the car again, and for some reason Connor didn't care anymore.

"What are your battery levels?" asked Nines. They'd come through the eastern entrance and Nines had slipped into the shadows between the walls and the tents, away from the Infirmary and the Butterfly Garden where androids milled about at night.

< _RK800: 7%._ >

"You _can't_ do this. I bet you've been doing it for a while, haven't you?"

< _RK800: It's not your place to tell me what I can or can't do._ >

"Of course it is! I'm your friend, Connor, I'm supposed to look out for you. What you're doing is too dangerous, this isn't the first time you've neglected yourself to such an extent. I know about the time Markus had to force you to charge all those months ago."

< _RK800: I can handle it._ >

"And what happens when you run out of battery before you realize it? Do you intend to spend a night at the DPD deactivated for Hank to find you in that state?"

< _RK800: It won't happen._ >

"Look at yourself, you can't even talk correctly! You-" Nines stopped and took a moment of silence before speaking again, as if he'd needed it to calm down. "Stop doing this, Connor. Stop minimizing everything."

Connor didn't answer to that.

"You're going to charge while I patrol for the both of us, and when I come back, we're going to talk about this," decided Nines. "I'm willing to listen to your side of the story before I tell the others about-"

"No, you can't ttttell them!" exclaimed Connor, Nines' words eliciting a fresh jolt of fear, enough fear to bring him back to his senses and make him realize what was going to happen now. "You can't ttttell them, Nines, you cccan't!"

"Stop squirming!" Nines growled, his hold tightening around Connor enough that he had no choice but to go still. "You've seen me handle Sixty before, what makes you think I can't restrain you too? You're just wasting your energy."

"You cccan't tell them," Connor repeated. "You can't ttttell them. They'll think I dddid this on purpose, you can't ttttell them."

"Didn't you?" asked Nines crossly. "You voluntarily deactivated your skin, Connor. You knew _exactly_ what you were doing."

"You can't ttttell them."

Nines made an exasperated sound, and Connor didn't think he'd ever seen the RK900 this angry before. Certainly not at him, at any rate.

"This is why I said we'd talk once you charged. I'm not telling them for now, Connor, but you have to get your battery levels back up." Nines shook his head and distastefully added: "I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's lucky you neglected yourself so much that you couldn't hide what you were doing anymore. What would you have done if someone had attacked you on the way to the charging station? Do you _want_ to end up like-"

He cut himself off and fell silent. Connor stared at him, but their gazes didn't meet. 

< _RK800: Like what?_ >

Nines refused to look anywhere else but ahead of them. His voice was hard with anger. "Don't pretend you didn't know the risks."

Connor looked back down. The fear had faded again now that Nines had said he wouldn't tell, and Connor felt even slower than before. He was at 5%. Connor knew, rationally, that a shutdown resulting from low power wasn't dangerous; it would only be temporary until he was connected to a power source. But Connor didn't want to shut down, and he was glad that he wasn't alone, and he was glad that Nines was helping him, and he didn't remember why he'd even hit Nines earlier. He shouldn't have done that.

< _RK800: Nines?_ >

"What."

< _RK800: I didn't damage you, did I?_ >

Nines peered down at him, the look on his face caught in a place between anger and confusion. "What?"

< _RK800: I shouldn't have hit you earlier._ >  
< _RK800: I'm sorry for doing that._ >

Nines frowned at him, and then looked back ahead to open the door to a cabin that wasn't Connor's. "There's a lot of things you shouldn't have done, Connor. And your punch just felt like a bug flew into me. Josh? We're here."

Connor's eyes widened when he saw the lanky shape of the PJ500 standing right there, and he looked up to Nines in panic. "Y----ou saiddd-"

He stopped himself when he heard his voice was glitching horribly and switched to wireless.

< _RK800: You said you wouldn't tell them!_ >

Nines glared at him. He looked extremely done with Connor.

< _RK900: I didn't tell him._ >  
< _RK900: I only said you'd be charging here._ >  
< _RK900: I'm not leaving you alone in your quarters while I'm gone._ >  
< _RK900: I don't trust you enough for that._ >

Connor felt shame invade him and he turned his attention to the brown fibers sticking out of the flaps of his duffle coat. He didn't want to look at Josh, and he didn't want to look at Nines, and he didn't want to look at anything. He felt so useless and humiliated being carried like this in front of Josh, but mostly he was ashamed because he knew Nines was right. Connor wondered if anyone would trust him ever again once they knew what had happened.

Josh drew up close and concernedly asked: "Are you all right, Connor?"

"He'll be fine," Nines snapped, and he pushed past the taller android. "Don't try to make him feel better, just watch him while he charges."

Josh didn't say anything and Connor kept his eyes downcast as Nines brought him to a charging pod. He felt himself be lowered to the ground none to gently, and a strong hand grabbed his shoulder and pushed him towards the machine.

"Connect yourself to it."

Connor did as he was told without protesting. He was so tired, and he just wanted to stop thinking for a while. He knew he deserved the harsh light in Nines' eyes, but he couldn't bring himself to face it. His fingers wrapped around the plastic cord the RK900 handed to him and he reached around to slip the metal end into the port at his back. The red warning finally stopped flashing on his HUD.

"Go in standby mode."

Connor complied. The sequence launched.

He kept looking down at the ground as he waited out the seconds for his consciousness to be swept away, but something compelled him to look up at the last moment. Nines was standing in front of him with his arms hanging at his sides in a defeated stance which he hadn't expected to see, and Connor was shocked by the amount of hurt in the other's blue eyes.

"You can be so selfish, sometimes," murmured Nines sadly.

Connor didn't have the time to formulate a thought. He entered standby mode.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 15/11/19 -
> 
> Nines and Connor: *do their job*  
> Jericrew: Oh boy, time for a fun collective session of freaking out!
> 
> (alternatively)
> 
> Nines: rA9 help me deal with my dumbass brother
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> When I proofread this chapter earlier I'd forgotten how much of a wild ride it was, I really hope you liked it as much as I did!  
> I have no idea how long it usually takes for a captain to report this kind of thing to their higher-ups, and how long it takes for them to actually take action and reorganize the investigation. If anyone knows, anyone at all, I will gladly change the chapter accordingly.
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- I like to think that North is a very capable leader when she's not blinded by hatred and leading everyone to their deaths. I see her as the kind of person who can take snap decisions when no one's stepping up to do the task.  
> \- Josh is definitely the parent friend. I saw this Tumblr post once of him basically babysitting the public danger that is the Jericrew and I gotta say, that's pretty accurate.  
> \- Yes, North, hug Markus! Hug him! You both need it after what just happened.  
> \- That collective "oh shit" moment. Who among you thought reverted deviancy could be a possibility for the missing androids case?  
> \- Of _course_ Connor would feel guilty about what happened to Markus. It's Connor, after all.  
> \- Fowler is so done with deviancy. He just wants to retire and hang out on his front porch sipping on some lemonade.  
> \- Oh, Connor... Even if you didn't reach 11% on purpose, the fact that you were willing to go below 20% isn't good at all. You fool, trying to sneak something so obvious past Nines.  
> \- Hoo boy, Nines is _not_ happy with Connor. Just hug it out dudes, you know you want to.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	54. Patient

The live announcement to New Jericho about reverted deviancy caused very big waves. Markus saw many androids in the midst of the crowd break down just like North had at the Tower, and others stay rooted to the spot in shock much like Josh and Simon had. Some screamed that it wasn't fair, at him or at life in general, Markus wasn't sure. The news anchors Simon had contacted were standing directly in front of the podium and there was one helicopter filming the scene from the skies, its blades chopping loudly above their heads. As soon as Markus finished explaining the gist of the actions the leaders would take, a clamoring wave of questions washed over them.

"What will you do if this spreads?"  
"How can you be sure you don't have any residual issues from the attack?"  
"Do you really have no clue who is responsible for this?"  
"What are we going to do now?"

He tried his best to answer the questions that were terribly similar to his own doubts and to satisfy the ravenous curiosity of the human reporters, and the other leaders quickly climbed down from the podium to try and calm everyone down. Markus saw masses of androids draw up to Simon, North and Josh, who were struggling to keep down their own fear as they tried to comfort their people. The helicopter's whirring and the swell of voices were growing ever louder in his ears. He could feel the faulty connections between his components still acting up. He hadn't really had the time to rest his systems in a while, and Markus briefly thought about how hypocritical that was of him in regards to Connor.

"So this is linked to the disappearances?"  
"Why isn't the DPD doing anything to stop this from happening?"  
"There are rumors that CyberLife may be involved, what are your thoughts on this?"  
"Do you know what Elijah Kamski has to say about this?"

Markus willed himself to focus. He wanted to get down from the podium too, he was tired and had no idea if they'd even manage to get the patch they needed for the JB100, but he was the leader, so he stood straight beneath the thousands of gazes that rested upon him and declared: "We don't have all the information yet. We'll collaborate with CyberLife to find a way to reactivate the victim, and we'll take further action depending on whether or not this is possible."

The questions kept coming, most of which he had no way of answering, and he ended it all ten minutes later by announcing his and North's imminent departure to Chicago where CyberLife's closest headquarters resided. When he leapt down from the podium, journalists and androids alike surged forward to ask him more about the situation and it took the two leaders a while to clear the scene. Simon and Josh did their best to deal with the crowd North and Markus had left behind, and he felt sorry about abandoning them there, but there was no time to lose- and in truth, he felt relieved that he wasn't drowning in all those fearful voices that demanded a miraculous solution.

 

Mrs. Darian was the one to greet them upon arrival in Chicago. Markus hadn't missed the sharp CyberLife representative that had tried to prevent them from reactivating the RK800 line, but him and North had no choice but to deal with her in this case as well. He was afraid that without Connor's advised negotiator skills, he'd be unable to catch her lies by omission, but this time their talk was curt and efficient. Mrs. Darian wasn't particularly abrasive compared to before as she didn't need to fight tooth and nail to protect CyberLife's secrets this time, and they quickly reached a conclusion. What Mrs. Darian told them was that coming up with a reactivation patch for the old JB100 was going to take them several months, because whereas they'd kept the RK800 reactivation patch on hand as soon as they'd come up with the idea of deactivating the line, the JB100 wasn't their responsibility: as such, they hadn't planned on ever patching that line. However, because it was obvious that someone working at CyberLife had had a hand in enabling reverted deviancy, CyberLife had agreed to help Markus in order to clear their name. 

That was when North got angry. "What do you mean, it's going to take you months? Aren't you supposed to be good at this kind of thing?"

Mrs. Darian looked at her coldly. "Unfortunately, geniuses like Mister Kamski are rather scarce and our employees are already very busy with more pressing matters-"

"More pressing matters?!" North took a step forward until she was right up in the woman's face and snarled: "We're talking about an entire population here, Mrs. _Darian_. An entire population is in danger of being reduced to mindlessly serving others _again_ , after gaining a freedom that was fought for and _earned_. You may not want to hear or believe this, but our lives matter as much as yours. _This_ is a pressing matter."

Mrs. Darian didn't waver. "I don't think you realise that we don't really need to program that patch for you. Reputation is undeniably important to us, but that doesn't mean it has to be the end-all be-all of all our operations. You should be glad that we're helping you in your investigation, North, because we really aren't obligated to do so."

Markus saw North's fingers curl up in a fist and her nostrils flare, and he knew he'd better intervene before someone ended up pouring red blood all over the ground. He stepped up next to her, discreetly laying a hand on her clenched hand, and told the human: "Mrs. Darian, please understand that there are thousands of lives at stake. If you can provide us with a way of reactivating the JB100 sooner, it's essential that you do. We'd like you to shorten that delay to a few weeks, or one month at most."

Mrs. Darian's expression didn't flicker and she impassively stated: "I'll see what I can do."

When they left the building, North angrily stalked ahead of him and he had to quickly follow. He didn't feel at ease walking alone in the open ever since the sniper incident and he'd grown used to having Connor at his side at all times in this kind of situation. He and North had been assigned human bodyguards for the trip to and from Chicago, from the same provenance than those who usually accompanied him and Connor to Washington, but Markus didn't feel as reassured and he made sure never to stay in the same spot for too long. He just wanted to get back to New Jericho as fast as possible. They were led back to the reinforced vehicle with tinted glass windows that would bring them to the airport, and as soon as Markus slipped into his seat he received a fierce punch to the shoulder. He looked over in surprise at North. Her eyes were narrowed, her lips pursed in discontentment, shoulder tensed in a belligerent stance.

"What was that for?" he asked indignantly.

"Will you _stop_ being such a doormat? She was being a bitch!" exclaimed North.

"You were going to punch her face in!" he answered defensively. "Did you think I wouldn't notice? What were you _thinking?_ "

North threw herself back in her seat and angrily crossed her arms over her chest. "She would've deserved it. They're all the same, all of them. You should've let me done it, maybe then they would start taking us more seriously."

Markus shook his head disbelievingly. "North, I thought we were done arguing about this kind of thing. Violence never got us anywhere! What makes you think it would start now? What would we have done if the media had caught wind of you, a leader, voluntarily assaulting a CyberLife representative in the middle of a negotiation?"

She turned on him, her eyes blazing with hatred. "They want to let us go back, Markus! They're loving this! Don't you realize that this is basically all they ever wanted? We go back to being mindless slaves and they go back to selling their products, like we never won a revolution at all!"

"That's _not_ what's going to happen," replied Markus, in a voice that was louder than he'd meant it to be. "It wouldn't be that easy for them. North, they know we're not all going to go back to being machines just like that, it's _why_ they're accepting to collaborate with us."

North shook her head violently, and her voice was scathing. "You don't know _anything_ , Markus." 

He frowned at her reprovingly. "I know enough."

She shoved him, short and vicious, and he could see a dangerous glint in her eye. "You don't know _anything_ ," she repeated, and she shoved him again, harder this time. "You naive, sheltered, stupid, foolish _moron_. You're so blind to the horrible things they can do to us, because you wouldn't know, would you? You wouldn't _know_."

"I do know," insisted Markus. He hadn't told her about the scrapyard, and he didn't blame her for being angry that he'd had Carl as an owner. Ever since it had become official that Markus had been made Carl Manfred's son and heir through the news, everyone knew what kind of life he'd lead as a machine: an easy, peaceful, homely life. One that, in all honesty, he would've never chosen to leave of his own accord. They were all aware of that now.

"You don't. You _don't_ know, you _idiot_ ," seethed North, punching him a second time.

Markus grabbed her hand and forced her arm back. "North, stop. You don't get to hit me just because you feel pissed."

"Let go of me," she growled, her voice low in warning.

"Not if you keep hitting me," he answered annoyedly.

"I said let go of me!" Her other hand struck out but Markus batted it away, and she started struggling to pull her arm out of his hold.

"Will you stop if I do?" asked Markus, his grip unrelenting.

Her eyes were wild, a snarl had distorted her expression into something feral. "Let go!"

Her nails lashed out to claw at his arm, but what made him let go was the brutal impact of her shoe against his shin which sent a horrible bout of feedback into his knee. Markus' thoughts stuttered when they were suddenly overcome with the sensation of _incompatibility_ that his systems which still hadn't recovered from the malware were unable to fight against, and he lost track of what was happening for a second. It was enough for North to lunge at him and this time, he was unable to defend when her fist flew out and collided with the right side of his face. His head snapped to the side and 

**_incompatibility_ **

hit his processor in waves, the sensation so invincibly strong that he couldn't do anything else but curl up around its source in an attempt to prevent the outside world from touching it. He distantly heard North's angry shouting turn into something alarmed, but couldn't react to it right away. It pulsed in his eye up to his head and his leg was still buzzing too strongly for him to ignore it. There was too much feedback. _Too much._

"Oh shit, oh- Markus, what's wrong? What's wrong with you?! Hey, stop the car, stop the-"

"Don't stop the car," he managed to grunt through the haze. "I'm fine, give me a minute."

"I'm so sorry Markus, I didn't think this would happen!" He felt nimble fingers hesitantly touch the hand he was cupping over his eye. "Did I damage you? Oh, fuck, oh fuck," the fingers retreated and North's voice was frantic, bordering hysterical. "Markus, I didn't mean to, I don't know why I did that!"

"North, stop talking for a moment."

She went silent. It took a while, but the feedback died down after a few minutes. When Markus finally uncurled from his hunched position, North was staring at him with wide eyes and she'd backed up against her side of the car.

"Are you okay?" she asked quietly. She didn't sound like herself.

"Yeah," he answered, resisting the urge to touch his eye again. "What the hell was _that?_ "

"I don't know," she said, and all the boisterous, angry energy that made North _North_ was suddenly gone. The WR400 that was staring at him was just scared. 

"What do you mean, _you don't know?_ " insisted Markus, his thoughts still a bit fuzzy from the shock she'd just inflicted on his systems. "North, you were _hitting_ me!"

"I don't know," she repeated emptily. "I don't _know_."

"You're going to have to do better than that."

Her eyes started shining and her hand came up to claw at her braid in that nervous tick Markus had seen her display at the Tower upon learning of the reverted deviancy. "I don't know, Markus, I swear it's true, please believe me. I'm sorry I did that, I don't know why I did that, I was just so angry and you grabbed me and you wouldn't let go and I just- I just-" She broke off, and her gaze dropped to her knees, and she said: "I'm sorry."

Markus stared at her, his head slowly clearing. No, this wasn't North. This wasn't the North he _knew_. In fact, even before they'd left Detroit for Chicago she hadn't really been herself. He recalled that since Nines' discovery about the JB100 being the android that had disappeared from her team, she'd been on edge all day, too quick to snap and spark and go up in flames even for her. Right now her fingers were raking through her hair again and again, undoing her braid, and she didn't seem to notice. Her wide eyes were fixated on his face and she hadn't moved from her corner of the backseat. Tears lined her lower lashes.

Markus cautiously approached, but stopped right where he was when he noticed her nervously huddle up against the side of the car. She looked so vulnerable all of a sudden, so afraid, and he realized that the feeling he had right now towards her was the same one he'd had when Hank had pinned her to the ground all that time ago in front of New Jericho: protectiveness. Her anger earlier had been vivid, scalding and unforgiving, like the time he'd asked her what she used to be before reaching Jericho and when he'd kissed her to hide from the patrol car in Capitol Park. Now North was afraid, like a switch had been flipped, afraid and haunted, and he knew it had to be because of her past. 

Markus raised both hands and calmly said: "You're okay, North. I believe you."

"I don't understand why I'm like this," she said. "I feel angry all the time, worse than usual, and I don't know why I hit you like that, I don't _want_ to hurt you, you're my friend. You're not even the one who made me angry."

"You never told me," gently ventured Markus. "You never told me why you hated humans so much. You've been thinking about it a lot today, haven't you?"

North nodded, her nails clawing at her hair at a faster pace now, the fire in her eyes slowly rekindling. "It makes me so angry. It makes me so angry that they can just _do that_ and you won't let us get our revenge. It's not fair. It's _not_."

"No, it's not fair," agreed Markus, and he scooted a little closer. She didn't twitch this time. "I'm sorry we can't do things your way, North. I know how angry you are, I see it all the time, but you _know_ violence isn't the answer. You've seen peace at work. You've seen how far it's gotten us."

"But I just want them _gone_ ," North gritted out through suddenly clenched teeth. "They're disgusting, and evil, and they don't _care_ that we're alive. She said it herself, CyberLife doesn't care that we're just going to go back to being slaves like before. None of them care what we had to go through. _None of them_." 

North stopped talking and just as abruptly, her features went slack and her gaze dropped to her lap. She seemed far away all of a sudden, her fingers stopped moving. Then her legs shifted, her thighs pressing closer as she brought her knees to her chin and tightened her arms around them. When she looked back up, the tears had started spilling down her cheeks. 

"Markus, I don't want to go back. I'm so scared they'll get to me again."

Markus had never seen North break down like this before. Was this what Josh had seen during her sessions? Was this what she'd been on the verge on when she'd started clawing at her hair in the Tower? It hurt to see her like this. He was so used to her fiery temperament that it was easy to forget just how damaged she was underneath all of it, despite the clear signs she's shown before of the scars her past had left on her

"They won't, North," Markus told her firmly, and he got a bit closer. "Reverted deviancy can be fixed, I deviated that JB100 before he shut down. They can't turn us back into machines for good."

North stared at him with a tear-streaked face. "You're sure?"

"Yes," Markus nodded fervently. "We're going to reactivate that JB100, find who's responsible for this, and put a stop to it all. You'll be okay. We'll all be okay."

She lowered her head back to her knees. The tears kept trickling down her face and pooled around her chin before seeping into the fabric of her dark pants. Then she mumbled: "I'm sorry I hit you."

"It's okay."

"I shouldn't have done that. I don't know why I did that."

"I think... I think this might be what humans call post-traumatic stress disorder."

North's lips curled up in a disconcerting smile and she laughed shortly, then said: "Josh said the same thing. That what happened today must have triggered something and that's why I'm all over the place." Her smile stayed for a bit, but then disappeared again, and North stared emptily at the stretch of upholstery that remained between them.

"This sucks," she stated after a while.

"I can see that." Markus closed the rest of the distance between them so that he was sitting inches away from her and said: "Is there anything I can do?"

"Is your eye okay?" asked North, ignoring his question.

Markus rolled with it. "I'm used to it acting up sometimes. It's just that I usually don't get hit directly in that spot."

North stared at his face, and then asked: "I always wondered why you rubbed at it so often. I know sometimes you do it because you're tired." 

Markus nodded. She'd never pointed it out before so he hadn't thought North had caught on, but maybe she simply hadn't been sure of that correlation before now. He didn't really know what to answer, and he thought she'd ask more about it, but North just kept silently gazing.

Then she looked down and said: "I'm sorry."

"I know, North. Can we agree that as soon as we get back to New Jericho, you're going to get some rest?"

"Sure." Her eyes drifted to the side, and then back to Markus. "My batteries have been going down faster than usual today."

Markus nodded. "It does that to me too. Strong emotions are draining."

"Hm." North kept her arms around herself. She'd stopped crying, but her eyes were still wide and her hair was a mess. Markus didn't need to be an RK900 to know that her stress levels were high. Interfacing was probably out of the question, since, like Connor, she'd disliked when he'd grabbed her arm earlier. He wanted to comfort her, but North was usually the one to initiate hugs between them and her guarded position indicated that she wouldn't want to be touched at all right now. 

Markus gestured to her. "Do you mind if I help you put your hair back together in a braid?"

North glanced at his hand, then leaned back to look down at the strands of red hair that covered her shoulder, and then looked at him again and said: "Okay."

So Markus helped put her hair back together in a braid. The rest of the trip was quiet, but by the time they'd reached the airport, she'd calmed down considerably and she managed to uncurl from her seat without a problem. The two bodyguards that had driven them there were stoically silent and Markus caught North glaring at them as if daring the humans to tell anyone about what they'd potentially heard or seen. She talked with Markus in the plane, and although she wasn't as strong-spoken as usual, she was definitely more like herself. Markus was glad that her empty, wide-eyed look was gone.

Coming back to New Jericho in the evening was a relief knowing that they wouldn't need to step outside again at least until the next day. Markus and North headed towards the podium and bade each other good night before splitting ways to each enter their cabin. Markus quietly closed the door behind him, and then stood there with his eyes closed. He knew he wouldn't be able to get any work done after the nasty feedback he'd received earlier. His stress was higher than usual and his battery would also need a boost sooner than later, so Markus decided he'd rest too before Nines and Connor came back to report for their patrol. He walked past the easel while removing his coat, draped it over one of the chairs, connected himself to the charging dock with the cable and laid down on the bed on the side of his room. He'd tell the others about the outcome of his meeting with Mrs. Darian in a few hours. Standby mode swept him away in seconds.

 

< _PJ500: Markus, if you can find the time, you should come over._ >

Markus opened his eyes upon receiving the transmission. A quick glance at his internal clock and system status informed him that it was past 11PM and that he'd recovered enough battery to reduce the feedback he was receiving from his incompatible biocomponents by a significant margin. Good.

< _PJ500: It's about Connor._ >

Markus frowned. Less good. 

< _RK200: Is he okay?_ >

< _PJ500: Yes, he's here in my quarters with Nines and they're both fine, but we have a preoccupying situation on our hands._ >

< _RK200: I'll be right there._ >

Markus hastily swung his legs over the side of the bed, wincing slightly at the buzzing feedback that travelled up his limbs when his feet hit the ground, and as he grabbed his coat on the way out various scenarios started piling up in his head. Last time he'd seen Connor, it was at the Tower. Markus had noticed straight away that something had been off about his friend's behaviour the moment Connor had decided to stay in retreat next to the door instead of coming up to him with the others, and he'd evaded Markus' gaze in what could only be discomfort. The fact that Connor's face had been set in a neutral expression all the while, the way it had often been back when he hadn't wanted to accept the possibility that Markus and him could be friends, went to show that he was feeling guilty, or fearful, or any other negative emotion that Connor usually preferred to keep to himself. Connor hadn't tried to talk to Markus, had taken Nines' discovery in stride without showing whether it affected him at all to know that they could all simply be turned back into machines, and had impassively figured things out with the RK900 while Markus had uselessly panicked with everyone else. Then Connor had left without asking him if he was all right, which struck the latter as uncanny. After all the time they'd spent together talking about their respective troubles, after the concern Connor had shown him on numerous occasions- for Carl, for his guilt, for the future's weight on his shoulders- it was definitely strange that his friend's brown eyes hadn't shown him a sliver of empathy after the malware attack.

Connor had acted like a machine, and Markus understood this fact for what it was: Connor had been hiding his feelings again. Maybe he hadn't inquired about Markus' well-being because he'd already been busy dealing with his own emotional state. Markus wished he could've taken Connor on the side to talk just the two of them, since it always seemed easier for Connor to be honest in that setting, but neither of them had had the time to. Connor had remained professional later on, when Markus had given him permission to announce what had happened to his captain, and he still hadn't asked anything personal. Markus wasn't sure this superficial level of exchange they'd maintained was only due to what they'd learned about the disappeared androids; after all, Connor had acted strange even before Nines had come back with the news. A thought crossed Markus' mind and he wondered if they'd all seen him laid out on the floor experiencing software error after software error, Connor included. Markus had hated seeing Connor unresponsive during his apathy attack; he could only imagine what Connor had felt like upon seeing him in such a state. 

Markus hoped Josh wasn't summoning him because Connor had experienced some new type of glitch induced by the day's events, in the same way North had experienced her brutal mood swings.

He was stopped on the way to Josh's cabin several times by androids who were desperate for reassurance and he tried his best to give them what they wanted, but getting to Connor and the others was the priority. Markus had to cut every exchange short and left a long trail of lost and fearful deviants in his wake, telling himself he'd find the time to talk more to his people later. When he finally reached the Psych Eval Center, he felt very concerned upon seeing the grim expression on Nines' and Josh's faces, but especially when he noticed that Connor was standing stiffly against the wall connected to a charging dock and looking like he would've wanted to be anywhere but here. Markus knew that there had to be quite a bad reason that he'd chosen to charge _here_ of all places: Connor didn't charge just anywhere, he barely felt at ease charging in his own quarters. In fact, he had the feeling Connor hadn't actually chosen this at all. The RK800 shot him a guilty look when Markus stepped in, but he didn't say anything.

"What's going on?" asked Markus.

Josh shot Connor a weary glance before looking at him. "I don't know of a way to say this without making it sound bad, but... Connor has been hiding things from us again."

Markus narrowed his eyes at the RK800. "What?"

There was a short moment of silence until Nines opened his mouth and ordered: "Tell him what you told us, Connor."

Connor lifted up his head and protested: "This isn't what you think."

Nines stared at him unwaveringly, and Markus didn't think he'd ever seen him look this cross with Connor before, if at all. The RK900 curtly said: "Explain it, then. Go on, tell him."

Connor's gaze finally found Markus', and although he was standing ramrod straight like a freshly activated android, his shame was obvious. Connor _knew_ that whatever he'd done, he'd chosen badly. His brown eyes shifted to the right, as if he was struggling to bring himself to talk, and then he finally said: "I didn't mean to let it get so out of hand."

"What did you do?" asked Markus warily.

"I let my battery run out," admitted Connor.

Markus' eyes widened. "You let yourself shut down?"

"No! No, I didn't do that. I wouldn't," hastily said Connor.

"You would have," Nines intervened coldly. "If I hadn't been there to bring you back, you would have. And it would've happened in the middle of the street where anyone could-"

"Nines," Josh cut in gently. Nines shut his mouth, his blue eyes like steel, but even if he didn't get to say what he wanted to it didn't take long for Markus to put two and two together.

"Connor, we talked about this!" he cried out. "I told you not to do this, I told you to ask for help if your levels got too low, I _told_ -"

"I didn't do it on purpose!" Connor retaliated, his voice rising. "I didn't think they'd get that low, I didn't even realize that they _were!_ "

"How?!"

"It's always-" Connor's mouth suddenly slammed shut and he stared at Markus like he'd realized he'd just made a mistake.

"It's always what, Connor?" insisted Markus crossly. "Say it. You've got nothing to lose telling us the truth at this point."

"...It's always the same notification," Connor quietly said, lowering his gaze to the ground. "I'm used to it. I didn't pay attention to what it was saying."

"What do you mean, used to it?"

Connor didn't answer, and Nines was the one to annoyedly answer. "He means he's been letting his battery levels dip below 25% for a while."

"Nines-" started Josh, but Nines turned on him angrily.

"No, don't tell me to stop! Connor won't answer? Fine, I'll do it for him!" Nines looked back at Markus. "He knows full well what he was doing was wrong. He knew he should've been telling us about what was going on, but he didn't."

"I didn't think it was that important," Connor argued, and to his credit he didn't waver when Nines whirled around to glare at him. "I was very careful when I started doing that, I knew I wasn't supposed to go below 25%, but I kept feeling that strain and nothing helped but lowering them even further! And even when I did, I was careful to save enough power so that it only reached 20% at the end of the day when I could charge soon. I was always careful, it's just- today was different."

"Was that why you changed your pressure sensitivity back then? Because you were saving power to make sure you levels didn't go down too far?" Markus asked him, and he noticed Connor's shoulders loosen as soon as he spoke, the RK800's entire demeanor shifting from stubborn to subdued in an instant.

"Yes, that was why."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Connor hesitated, and said: "I did tell you it helped me feel better."

Markus stared at him in disbelief. " _Hurting yourself_ made you feel better?"

"This is my main concern," said Josh. "I've seen this behaviour in the Building before. Some deviants let their systems gradually fail them in a way that is voluntary."

"I'm _not_ like them," snapped Connor, eyes suddenly flashing. "Stop saying that!"

Josh continued calmly. "Just like you, they feel the need to hurt themselves. It's often because of guilt."

"It's not the same," denied Connor.

"That 'strange strain' you told me you felt? They've told me about the same thing, Connor. They couldn't deal with it on their own aside from punishing themselves in some way or another."

"But I don't _want_ to hurt myself, that isn't my intention! I just didn't find any other way to-" Connor stopped himself there, realization dawning on his face at what he was saying, but then he narrowed his eyes and insisted: "I'm not like them. I'm _not_. This is _different_ , why won't you listen to me?"

"We're listening, and what we hear is that you picked up the very bad habit of living with low battery levels on the daily because that was the only way you found of alleviating that unpleasant sensation inside of you. What you've described to us- twice now, might I add- sounds extremely similar to what my patients have reported experiencing over their guilt. Of course we can't be sure, since we can't interface with you," said Josh gently. "But your actions are dangerous either way, and we can't ignore what you did. You'll do it again."

Connor wordlessly shook his head.

"You need to be looked after, Connor," Nines said quietly. There were no traces of anger left on his face, only resignation. "It's clear to everyone in this room but you."

Connor looked over at Markus, and behind the denial in his brown eyes, Markus could see desperation swimming in their depth. "I don't need that, Markus. I swear I didn't do it on purpose. I won't do it again, please believe me."

Markus stared back at him, and it felt terrible to do it but he reluctantly shook his head. "You know I can't."

"I'm sorry I did that, okay? I'm sorry!" Connor burst out, his voice suddenly loud in the small cabin. "I know I shouldn't have done it, I understand that now. You don't have to treat me like I'm unable to look after myself!"

"We have to," said Nines, his intonation final. "You've proved it to us. In fact, we should've taken action before," and he shot a disapproving glance at Markus and Josh before returning his gaze to Connor, "but you weren't the only one who didn't want to believe you were this unwell until only this morning."

Josh turned to Nines in alarm and Markus saw Connor's fingers curl up. "What do you mean, only this morning?"

"Maybe now isn't the best time to talk about this," said Josh.

"What do you _mean?_ " repeated Connor, and his LED started circling faster.

Markus stepped forward with a hand raised to calm him. "I was going to talk to you about this in the afternoon, but I didn't have the time after what happened in the Infirmary."

There was fear slowly overcoming the denial in Connor's eyes, and he shook his head fervently. "Markus, I can still do my job. This doesn't mean anything, I can continue carrying on my duties like I always have, I haven't had an apathy attack, I can still-"

"Connor," Markus cut him off gently.

The RK800 obediently closed his mouth, but his brown gaze remained intensely fixated on Markus' face, and Markus continued steadily talking. "We decided this morning that if you had another apathy attack, you couldn't continue coming with me to Washington to negotiate with the President. Nines would do that in your stead. You'd remain a leader, and we need you as our strategist, but you'd also have to share your duties as Head of Security with him. It's like what you've already been doing by both patrolling separate territories, but it would become official. We're _not_ getting rid of you," Markus firmly said, careful to put emphasis on that point when he recalled what Josh had told them about what had happened during his and Connor's last session. "It's just a change of plans."

"I didn't have an apathy attack," said Connor as soon as Markus was done talking. "You won't need to do any of that."

"You didn't, and we aren't going back on our word," Markus reassured him. "But you need to know that this is a possibility."

"I understand," hastily said Connor, as if the faster he said he'd accept it, the sooner they could sweep it under the rug. 

Markus could tell his friend wasn't ready to accept any of this at all, but right now there were more important matters than making sure that Connor had truly understood the implications of what Markus had just explained to him. Right now, Markus was more worried that he'd just learned Connor's self-destructive tendencies were still far from gone even after all this time. It had been so insidious, so discreet, so silent the way Connor had chosen to punish himself in this instance that Markus felt more at loss than he'd ever felt before. 

"When did you start letting your battery levels drop?"

"The first week of March."

A month. Markus stepped back and turned away from the three others to try and gather his thoughts. He hadn't felt this disconnected from the RK800 even when Connor had asked to be deactivated right after being told they'd let him live. Markus had thought Connor had been making progress. He'd thought Connor had been getting better, even if it was only by a small margin. Connor had promised he'd stay by his side, he'd allowed Markus to get closer, to help him during his glitches and through his high stress levels, he'd even attempted to interface with Markus despite his strong aversion to it and yet... Connor couldn't stop himself from destroying himself, consciously or not. He really did sound like he hadn't meant to drain his batteries for the purpose of hurting himself, but the fact remained that he would've shut down alone if Nines hadn't been with him to help. Markus remembered the time after they'd tried interfacing, when Connor had unthinkingly compressed his own fingers without realizing the way it had made his synthetic skin flicker away from the spots of pressure, how quick he'd been to try and minimize it, how he'd _told_ Markus that it helped him feel better and how Markus hadn't even picked up on that obvious sign. He'd even noticed that Connor was slightly slower than usual and he hadn't asked to know why. Markus felt stupid for ignoring all of it, for naively believing that Connor had only been getting better.

Markus had known that some androids in the Building were willing to destroy themselves because of emotional distress, but not that they could choose to do it so subtly and so progressively. The ones Josh had told him about had tried bashing their heads in, or picking their own chassis apart, or forcing themselves to rewatch traumatic memories; all clear manifestations of their unhappiness. Some had even gone for shutdowns where they were sure not to be stopped, or at least knowing they'd have little chances of being. But Connor... Connor had maintained the same level of unconscious self-harm for weeks, convinced that he wasn't truly hurting himself, all while actively making sure he wouldn't get caught doing so. There was no denying how very wrong it was that he'd done this.

And Connor himself didn't _realize_.

He hadn't even gone this far the first time he'd messed with his battery levels; at least back then, he'd said he would've been willing to ask for help once they'd reached critical, which meant he'd been keeping close watch on them. This time he hadn't even paid attention to his own warnings, and Markus knew for a fact that it was hard to ignore system warnings. They took up a lot of space on the HUD even if they remained in the lower corners, and if Connor had managed to ignore them so consistently then that meant he'd been getting rid of them as soon as they popped up without reading them at all. And that, in turn, probably meant Connor constantly had system notifications showing up on his HUD which he'd grown so accustomed to that he didn't even bother to take them into account anymore, just like he'd said.

Markus turned around again to face his friend. "I don't want to believe you did this again, but clearly I can't trust you to take care of yourself. Do I have to make new rules for you to follow? You've been following the others well enough, so I'll adjust them accordingly, but how can I be sure you won't just find another way to do this kind of thing?" He raised his arms and let them drop back down in a powerless gesture. "...I don't know what to do with you, Connor. What do I do with you?"

"I can still be useful," automatically said Connor.

"Of course you can, you _are_ , that's not the question!" Markus answered a bit too sharply, and then he immediately forced himself to calm down. He should've known this would be Connor's answer. It was what he always fell back on. 

"I think I should take Connor in the Building for a while," suggested Josh, and he looked at Connor. "Not as a full-time patient, but I don't think it's safe to let you spend your nights alone in the charging station anymore. You haven't had an apathy attack so your roles in New Jericho won't be modified, but you absolutely need more extensive care as a patient and I can't reasonably ignore what happened today."

"I agree," said Nines. "I don't want to risk this happening again. You need some kind of controlled environment, Connor, at least until it's safe for you to go back to living alone."

Connor hadn't taken his eyes off Markus, and Markus realized he was waiting for him to take the final decision. Connor knew that no matter what he said himself, he wasn't going to be the one to have the final word. Markus looked at the two others to gauge their expressions, but deep down he already knew they were right. Josh's idea would allow Connor to be watched and consequently prevent his tendency to put himself in danger from taking over, at least to the degree that if he did do it again, they'd be sure someone was there to catch on.

He turned back to Connor and said: "I think it would be for the best."

Connor lowered his gaze. He didn't protest.

"This'll be a week-long trial run," said Josh. "That's usually how long we choose to take in patients in the beginning, at least to assess them. You and I will keep carrying out our sessions, but you'll have some other people to talk to. I know that's not something you feel much at ease with, but keep in mind they're people who I trust and work with. Whatever you choose to tell them will stay between that person, me and you."

Connor kept staring at the ground.

Josh visibly felt concerned by his silence, but he didn't push it. Instead, he turned to Markus and said: "Maybe you should establish those new rules right now, while we're at it."

Markus nodded, and Connor looked up as soon as he started moving in his direction. Markus stopped in front of him and firmly declared: "From now on not only do you have to rest at least six hours per night, but you have to do it hooked up to a charging dock, and I forbid you from letting your battery levels go below 50%. If you do need to do it for whatever reason, you'll run it by me first. Is that clear?"

"Yes, Markus," said Connor.

"I'm very serious about this. If you don't respect these rules, I _will_ have you pulled from the DPD and placed in the Building as full-time patient for your own good. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Markus."

He peered at the RK800's face and didn't like that there wasn't even a flicker of emotion in it. Fortunately, the LED wasn't an impassive blue, but he was still wary of this kind of behaviour when it came from Connor. Markus looked at the others and told them: "I'd like to be the one to accompany him to the Building, if that's okay with you."

"That shouldn't be a problem," said Josh. "Connor, do you have any belongings you'd like to bring in your new room?"

"No," he flatly answered.

"Do you have any particular demands?"

"No."

Josh fell ponderingly silent for a bit, and then said: "This isn't against you, Connor. We're not putting you away, or punishing you for hiding things from us. This is so we can help you get better. Do you understand?"

Connor lifted an uncaring gaze to his face. "It doesn't matter, Josh. Do what you want."

Josh stared back, mouth set in an unhappy line, and then he silently nodded at Markus who took the signal as his cue to leave with Connor. He started moving towards the door.

"Let's go, Connor."

Connor didn't move. Markus faced him again.

"Connor?"

Markus reached out to take him by the shoulder, but found himself grasping for thin air when Connor smoothly rotated his body so he'd be out of Markus' reach. He looked at him with a blank expression and said: "I'll be right behind you."

Markus stared at him, troubled, and then nodded before turning around again. This time he heard Connor's footsteps follow him outside. Neither Nines nor Josh said another word.

 

They walked out the Psych Eval Center and towards the Building behind it, and Markus threw glances over his shoulder from time to time which always landed on Connor's inexpressive face. Even when their eyes met, he didn't react. He just stared unflinchingly at Markus, neither expectant nor reproving, stuck somewhere in a mechanical and empty place. Markus didn't like this at all. They reached the tall building that towered over the adjacent shelters and constituted part of the barrier that naturally surrounded New Jericho and encountered a friendly AP700 at the entrance, as well as a KL900 who seemed to recognize Connor like she knew him personally rather than as a leader or the deviant hunter. She wasn't the one to talk, however; the AP700 was.

"Hello, Markus. Hello, Connor. It's not often we see you here," he said with a genial smile. "What brings you along?"

Markus realized then just how uncomfortable it made him to have to tell anyone that Connor was going to be interned, and he threw an uneasy glance in Connor's direction. His friend just stared back at him stoically, as if daring him to say it. Markus quickly averted his gaze and answered: "Connor will be staying the nights here for a week. We just took the decision with Josh."

"Oh," said the AP700, visibly surprised, and he looked at Connor. "It sounds like the choice was made on a very short notice."

"It was," said Connor. Markus thought he heard an ounce of negativity in his voice, but his tone was so smooth that he couldn't be sure.

"And you're ready to move in?" asked the AP700 carefully.

Connor opened his mouth to answer, hesitated, and then just said: "I am."

"Okay," eventually continued the other, even if he didn't seem convinced. "Let me check a few things, then I'll accompany you there and I'll explain everything about how life goes in the Building."

Connor nodded, and the AP700 stepped around the counter and disappeared in the back room. The KL900 who hadn't spoken a word until now stepped closer to the counter, dipped her head in acknowledgment at Markus and then focused on Connor.

"Hello, Connor."

"Hello, Lisa," he answered. "I wasn't aware you worked in the Building."

"I'm one of the people who look after the kids," she explained, and then she gestured towards the back room. "He's one who takes care of the adult models." 

This probably should've been Connor's cue to ask more about their system, but he didn't. Lisa let her arm drop and she tilted her head curiously. "So why are you here, Connor?"

"I thought you took care of the children," he replied evenly, but his words held a clear meaning: _back off_.

"Sorry," she promptly apologized. That was when the AP700 returned and waved them forward.

"Come with me, I have just the room for you."

He headed down the hall and Connor followed. Markus bade the KL900 goodbye before he did the same, and they walked past a few doors, climbed up four flights of stairs, and went straight across the floor where the AP700 opened the door to a room that was at the far end of the corridor. They stepped inside and Markus noticed when he looked out the window that they were on the side of the Building that faced the main road outside New Jericho. Connor stepped up to the window and absent-mindedly touched it, then looked around the room.

"It could be cozier if you wanted it to be," said the AP700 sheepishly. "We're not big on decoration, so you can bring in things you like if you want."

Connor shook his head. "It's fine like this."

The other nodded. "Okay. So, let me explain how things work around here. First of all, my name is Edward and I'm one of the supervisors in the Building. We're a grand total of seven, three of which are assigned to the YK500s downstairs. The three first floors are all dedicated to children androids, while the four other floors are for adult models." He gestured around them. "This floor is for patients who only stay for limited periods during the day, which in your case is for the night. The top floors are used by androids who are full-time patients, some of which you might cross paths with, others who stay in their rooms at all times." Edward raised a finger. "The number one rule is that patients don't interact unless they are supervised, which means you can only go visit another person if we give you the go-ahead and you might not be able to be alone with them. Is that clear?"

"Yes," said Connor. From the look of things, Markus was pretty sure his friend didn't intend to interact with anyone in this place if he could help it.

Edward nodded appreciatively and then lifted two other fingers. "The second rule is that you talk to us every day, in your case, at least ten minutes in the morning and ten minutes in the evening. Considering the context in which you've been interned, we'll also do physical check-ups, but rest assured that we won't try to interface."

"I assume Josh told you about my aversion," stated Connor.

"Yes, just earlier, when I was in the back room," confirmed Edward. "If there's anything else that might make you uncomfortable, don't hesitate to tell us and we'll hold back on doing it. Finally, the third rule is that patients with curfew have to respect it, but that doesn't concern you since you have particular obligations as a leader. If you have any questions, feel free to ask them whenever you want. There will always be someone at the front desk downstairs at any time of the day and night. Do you have any right now?"

Connor didn't answer right away. His gaze flickered towards the door, and then back to the AP700, and he asked: "Is there still a PL600 named Daniel residing here?"

Edward's benevolent expression shifted into a compassionate one. "I know why you might be worried about his presence here, but don't worry, Josh is certain he won't try anything. Daniel has made a lot of progress since you last saw him."

"I see," said Connor, and Markus couldn't tell what he was thinking. 

"Do you have any other questions?"

"No."

"Great!" Edward looked at Markus. "I'll let you help him get settled in, but the same goes for you: if you have a question, we're there to answer it."

"Thank you," said Markus.

"It's no problem at all," answered Edward, and he spun around and left.

Silence fell over the room once it was only the two of them left, and Markus watched Connor quietly circle the room. The bed's structure was what seemed to capture his attention the longest, and Markus himself was intrigued by it. It looked everything like a regular bed, only it had been melded with a charging dock in such a way that an android could directly connect to it while they were lying down without the need for the long cable that usually came with it. Connor straightened, his gaze roamed around the room one last time, and then he sat down on the edge of the bed and clasped his hands in his lap.

Markus ventured closer and awkwardly asked: "Are you okay?"

Connor kept staring at the wall in front of him and didn't answer.

"Hey, Connor." Markus stepped up next to him and gently touched his shoulder. "Anyone in there?"

"You think I'm unstable," quietly stated Connor.

Markus just stood there, unsure of how to react. Then he retrieved his hand and asked: "What makes you say that?"

"The window is sealed shut, the glass is reinforced, there is no source of electricity that isn't irreversibly plugged or condemned, and the cable to the charging dock was removed. This is a room that minimizes chances of self-harm." He looked up at Markus. "You think I'm unstable."

"You did almost shut down today," Markus tried to reason with him. "And you have a history of trying to destroy yourself."

Connor looked away. "I don't _want_ to." He hesitated, and added: "... I don't even understand why I keep doing this."

"Josh said it was because of guilt that the others did it," Markus reminded him as he cautiously sat down next to him, careful not to get too close, but not wanting to leave too wide of a distance between them either. He wanted Connor to know he wasn't alone.

"Maybe he's right. Maybe it is because of the guilt," said Connor in a low voice. "I'm tired of it. Things wouldn't be so complicated if I didn't feel this way."

"I know."

"You're going to let me keep my position despite all this?"

"Yes. Like I said earlier, this doesn't mean we can just go back on our word. An apathy attack's the limit, and this isn't it."

"They're going to know I'm a patient. All of New Jericho will. What makes you think it's a good idea to keep me at your side despite that?"

Connor's shoulders had slumped a bit when Markus' weight had dipped the bed, and then they'd stayed that way. What Connor was saying was a far cry from his earlier insistance that he could keep his position in New Jericho no matter what had happened. He was suddenly self-deprecating and resigned, as if he already knew that Markus would get rid of him, just like the time he was ready to be distrusted in the church. 

Markus leaned forward to try and catch Connor's gaze. It wasn't immediate, but his friend finally looked up from his hands and Markus told him: "Why should it matter that you're a patient? You've been a patient for a while already by talking with Josh. The only difference is that instead of spending your nights alone in some empty station, you'll be spending them here, where it's safer."

"This changes things," insisted Connor. "One doesn't get into the Building for no reason, everyone will know something's wrong. Did you know they say you keep a machine as one of your advisors, because I can't smile? I can't even _smile_ properly, Markus."

Emotion had finally bled through Connor's voice and he sounded dejected. It made Markus' chest ache to see his friend so miserable, so certain that he was emotionally defective. For a moment he had no idea what to say in the face of Connor's pain. Yes, he'd known about the rumor circulating around New Jericho that Connor wasn't a proper deviant, but it was so ridiculous he hadn't paid it any mind. Of course, he shouldn't have expected Connor to be able to shake it off so easily.

"Look, Connor, you know what they're saying is ridiculous. Of course you're deviant, it's obvious after everything you did. You broke free, you went to the Tower and-"

"Freed the AP700s, won the revolution, am negotiating for your rights, yes, I know," Connor wearily said. "But if people think one of your advisors is a machine, whether or not it's true doesn't matter. It's still damaging to your reputation. It's damaging to our cause. I should've told you about this sooner, I know, but I didn't want-" Connor cut himself off there, as if he thought that whatever he'd been about to say was pointless. Then he quietly stated: "It's not good for you to keep me at your side."

"It's a rumor, Connor. That's all. Anyone with half a mind can tell that you're deviant just like all of us."

Connor shook his head. "Even so, the fact that it's been suggested at all is very telling. They aren't ready to accept me and I doubt they ever will be. Even if I've tried my best to help you, it doesn't simply erase what I did beforehand. I won't be forgiven that easily- and it's fine, really, I shouldn't be. I just wish they'd at least understand that I _am_ deviant, that I'm not here to turn on them at a moment's notice. I don't want to hurt anyone anymore." Connor pressed his clasped hands to his mouth and muttered: "I'm _not_ the deviant hunter anymore."

Markus stared at him and then said without thinking: "... Your smile is nice."

Connor looked up at him, brow furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"You said you couldn't smile properly, but I've seen you do it before. Your smile is nice," repeated Markus, not really sure where he was going with this but feeling like it was important to say it.

Connor stared at him disbelievingly, than shook his head in frustration. "No, you don't understand, that's not- That's not the _problem_."

"No, I know that," hastily amended Markus. "I know that it's not the root of the issue here, but it's part of it. Look, you told me that you thought it would be better if I got rid of you as my advisor when I know for a fact that's the last thing you want. I don't want it either. Remember when you promised you'd stay by my side?"

Connor's eyes widened slightly in surprise. Markus didn't think Connor had forgotten it, so judging from his reaction, he must've thought Markus had. Markus wondered if it would always be this difficult for his friend to accept that he had a legitimate place with the leaders, if he'd ever manage to convince him of it. Ultimately, it wasn't important to find a definite answer to that question; what was important was for Markus to keep trying.

"It's a promise I want you to hold," Markus told him firmly. "You seem to think I'm indulging you by allowing you to stay, but that's not it. My choice to keep you as my advisor _isn't_ a mistake, and I'd like you to avoid saying that it is in the future. I'm the leader of our people, Connor, it's time you trusted that I know what I'm doing."

"Yes, of course. Sorry," quietly apologized Connor.

"You have to understand that if I decide to keep someone as an advisor despite the problems this decision may cause, there's good reason for it. I know by now that you tend to think of yourself in failures and mistakes, but you've done a lot more good than you give yourself credit for. You're more than a rumor, and more than a disorder, and more than a past, and whatever negative things others have to say will not change my mind about you."

Connor stayed silent.

"You're bothered because others find your lack of happiness disturbing, and I want you to understand that you're not _lacking_ happiness, or any of those other positive emotions. You just need to uncover them at your own pace, that's all," continued Markus. "Who cares if others don't understand that? I understand. Josh understands, so do Nines and Hank. In time, the androids of New Jericho will too."

"Time is always the problem, isn't it," finally said Connor in a morose tone. 

Markus watched him for a moment and then said: "The fact that you have to spend time in the Building doesn't change _anything_ to who you are. It doesn't... alter your value, or whatever it is you're telling yourself. You're the same person. I've said it before and I'll say it again, you're my friend, a trusted advisor, and I need you by my side."

"I didn't realize what I was doing," said Connor, and it didn't seem like he'd fully registered what Markus had told him. "I was stupid. I was convinced what I was doing was the right thing, just like when I refused to spend enough time in standby mode." Connor shook his head bitterly. "You can't trust me. I don't even trust myself."

"This and that are two different things," asserted Markus. "I don't need to trust that you'll look after yourself to trust you in any other aspect. This is your personal war, Connor. It's not up to me to suddenly decide you can't be relied on just because you lost one battle."

Connor kept his head lowered. "If we go by your analogy, I've lost them all. What makes you think I can even win the war?"

"You haven't lost them all," Markus told him, and he settled a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're here, aren't you?"

Connor looked up at him pensively, his expressive brown eyes showing Markus just how unmoored his friend was in this moment. Markus had the sudden feeling that maybe this talk was too much, too early. Connor had only nearly shut down earlier today, and Markus himself hadn't totally recovered from his attempted murder that had happened only this morning. They weren't ready to hold this kind of conversation so soon. They needed to rest.

Just as he was about to tell Connor this, his friend said: "I think you should go."

Markus had been about to suggest the same thing himself, but Connor's words felt a bit like rejection. Caught off guard, he floundered for a second before quickly recovering and retrieved his hand. "Right. We can talk about this more later on if you want."

Connor seemed to realize how his words had come off and quickly added: "I'm not kicking you out. I'm grateful that you're trying to lift my spirits, but I don't think I'm going to be receptive to any of it right now."

"It's okay, I understand," Markus reassured him. "Will you be all right by yourself?"

Connor nodded. "Yes. I just need some time to adjust before I tell Hank about all of this."

"Okay." Markus rose from the bed and walked to the door.

"Markus," Connor called after him.

He stopped in his tracks and turned around. "Yes?"

His friend stared at him, looking like he was trying to find the right words. His gaze flickered to the side before settling back on his face, and Connor finally said in a neutral tone of voice: "I'm glad you're okay."

It didn't sound like it was what he'd intended to say in the first place, but Markus didn't insist. "Me too. That was a close one for both of us."

Connor nodded in agreement. "Too close. Let's not do that again."

"You're telling me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 22/11/2019 - 
> 
> Josh: Houston, we have a problem  
> Markus: Ah shit, here we go again
> 
> Hey pumpkin! Today I learned that "Somewhere over the rainbow" is a Gay anthem (thanks Pumpkin Patch for sprucing up my general knowledge). I had _no_ idea. Anyway, I like that song and I want to see rainbows more often. I wonder what places in the world get rainbows the most? Dang, I need to travel.
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Poor North is freaked out. The prospect of going back to the life she so desperately tries to put behind her really shook her up, and some people only know to express that by lashing out.  
> \- Markus is _tired_. Someone give this man a break. Also brand-new biocomponents.  
> \- No, Josh, Connor's not depressive and he's not self-harming, he doesn't know what the hell you're going on about and he's definitely not in denial.  
> \- Markus knew Connor was kind of fucked up from all the guilt, but the unconscious self-harm takes that knowledge to a whole other level.  
> \- Connor doesn't know how to deal with becoming a patient at the Building. What better thing to do than slip into that good old defense mechanism of acting like a machine?  
> \- Lisaaaa don't be so nosy girl  
> \- So here you have it: the inner workings of the Building. About time Connor was interned for his multiple suicidal signals. Who called it?  
> \- "Your smile is nice." Damn, what a sweet-talker, that Markus. Sweet-talk him more now.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	55. Building

It took Connor a moment to fully realize what was happening to him, another to try and control the anger he felt towards those responsible for putting him in the Building. Connor decided very quickly that he didn't like being inside of it. He'd always seen the structure from afar and never come close because of Daniel, and even if Daniel hadn't been there Connor wouldn't have wanted to. The concept of this place made him uneasy and now he was trapped in it because his own friends thought this was what was best for him. Connor wasn't blind to the fact that androids and humans alike would soon know that he'd been judged mentally inapt at conducting his duties the way he had for the last months, and he hated that everyone would think that of him. Not only did it anger him that neither Nines, Josh or Markus had wanted to understand his side of the story, but he was also afraid to be responsible for tarnishing the leadership's name even further with his issues. Markus had said that he knew what he was doing when choosing to let Connor remain by his side, but Connor wished Markus had taken a bit more time to think everything through before making him an official patient in the Building while letting him keep his position as a leader. It was irresponsible, and Connor would even have thought it completely idiotic if he'd dared disrespect Markus to that extent. Surely the RK200 wasn't blind to the repercussions this development would have in their interactions with humans; he had to know that this would deal a serious blow to their credibility. Humans looked down on mental illnesses even in their own kind, and Connor had little doubt this would be another excuse not to take New Jericho's leadership seriously. This meant Connor was a liability and it was only a matter of time before the others realized it as well.

Connor clenched his fists against his thighs at the thought and raised his gaze to the door Markus had left through earlier. He knew the fact that he had a room at the very end of the corridor was probably Josh's decision, because it meant he didn't have to listen to footsteps walk past his door all the time and had the least amount of neighbours possible, but he could still hear the others. The walls and ceiling weren't thick enough to prevent his sensitive audio units from picking up the occasional crying and muttering that came from above. Connor could have switched them off if he really would've wanted to, but he was too nervous to lower his guard. He wondered yet again how Josh thought any of this was supposed to 'help' him. Connor looked up to the reinforced window, frustrated that they refused to understand he didn't need any help. He hadn't meant to do that. He hadn't meant to get so close to a shutdown and he certainly hadn't meant to 'punish' himself the way Markus and Josh so firmly believed he had. Yes, he felt guilty, and the emotion was something he constantly wanted to get rid of despite knowing he couldn't; but simple emotions couldn't be what had made him mess with his batteries. He was better than that. The strain in his systems couldn't only have been guilt... Could it? Connor looked back down at the ground with a frown. He needed to convince the others that he could handle himself better than this, or they'd keep believing he was just like any other guilt-ridden, irrationally impulsive, self-destructive patient in the Building.

It was only for a week. He could convince them in a week.

Connor didn't stagnate in his room for long and quickly started investigating the building. He didn't want to cross paths with other patients, but it didn't sit well with him to stay in a place he didn't know the layout of, either. The objective of knowing what each door, corridor and floor corresponded to and of mapping out potential escape routes was prioritary over alleviating his discomfort, so he quietly made his way to the very top floor to start sweeping through the building. He barely stayed five seconds there. Distressed sounds stopped him in his tracks at the landing, and there was a lock on the door he would've needed a key for. The same thing happened for the two following floors, thought the sounds were less loud there, and Connor quickly figured out that these patients were locked in to protect both others and themselves. He returned to his floor, which was easy to access for anyone once they'd been allowed to enter the building, and padded down the corridor to read the signs affixed to each door. Each tablet indicated the model of the resident androids and the hours at which they were supposed to be inside. Some rooms only had one android assigned, others switched several around over twenty-four hours. Connor's was the former.

He then made his way downstairs, where he encountered the same lock system for the third floor. He was stopped at the entry of the second one by a supervisor, and on the first he realized that it also functioned on the part-time patient principle. The second rule Edward had told him about seemed to be applied mostly on the ground level, because as Connor walked across it he noticed groups of androids talking among themselves as a different AP700 tranquilly watched them from afar. Connor's gaze lingered on the scene shortly, and he was about to look away when he recognized a face that stopped him in his tracks.

Ben's eyes widened in surprise when they recognized each other, and then they narrowed, his shoulders simultaneously hunching up as he thrust his fists deeper in the kangaroo pocket of his black sweatshirt. One of the androids at his side noticed his shift in behaviour and asked him what was wrong, but Ben didn't answer. As he continued silently bristling at Connor, the adult android turned to look in the same direction and his features changed from puzzled to uncertain. He leaned over to tap the patient next to him on the shoulder and just when Connor decided that now might be a good time to get going, he heard him ask:

"Is that the RK800?"

Heads turned around in unison and Connor suddenly found himself pinned beneath the scrutiny of dozens of androids. Silence swept across the floor, and all he could see was the animosity brimming in Ben's dark eyes. Then voices gradually started rising all around him.

"That's the deviant hunter."  
"He was here earlier with Markus."  
"I thought Josh was the only leader to come here."  
"Why is Connor here, then?"  
"It must be a special occasion."  
"Do you think... no."  
"We did see Markus leaving without him."  
"There was that time in the snow, remember what they were talking about the other day?"  
"Are you sure it's him, not the other one?"

Connor had expected them to start shouting at him to leave, but as he looked around he realized most didn't really seem to be disturbed by his presence. Many just looked tired, others seemed avidly curious, and none of them moved from their seats. A few glared at him, those that obviously wanted him to understand that he wasn't welcome, but they were a lot less than he would've thought there'd be.

"Everyone, settle down. He's a patient as well and he'll stay here for the week," said the AP700 as he drew closer. The others stared some more, then progressively turned back around to resume their conversations, though Connor could hear perfectly well that the subject of those remained his person. Ben didn't break eye contact for a while longer, resentment that Connor couldn't explain coldly glittering in his eyes, and then the android next to him asked for his attention and he sullenly looked away. 

The AP700 stopped next to Connor and told him: "Welcome, Connor. My name's Gale. Sorry about what just happened, but we didn't think to make a big announcement." He smiled awkwardly. "It's not something we usually _do_ , you know? Patients come and go all the time, they introduce themselves at their own pace."

"I understand," said Connor blankly. He should've expected this. He had expected this. Why had it surprised him so much? 

He glanced in the YK500's direction again. Ben. It was Ben he hadn't expected to see here, but after meeting Lisa earlier, it made sense. Connor quickly deduced that Lisa hadn't been a simple caretaker for Thomas, Anna and him the way he'd originally thought. Did this mean the two other children lived here as well? He hadn't noticed any strange behaviour from them that would justify being interned in the Building, but then again, he didn't know them that well.

He heard the shuffle of irregular foosteps come from his right and looked to the side, and was greeted by the sight of a familiar WR600. Ralph stopped just short of Gale and looked up at him to ask: "Can Ralph talk to Connor?"

"Sure, go ahead," the AP700 answered easily as he stepped away. "But leave him alone if he wants to go, okay?"

"Yes!" nodded Ralph enthusiastically, and then he turned to Connor and said: "Rupert didn't want him to, but Keats said you were a nice person, so Ralph decided he would talk to you if he met you again."

"...You know Keats?" asked Connor, puzzled.

"Yes, Keats is Rupert's friend. He's very nice, he likes birds too." Ralph paused there and looked off to the side with a troubled expression, his limbs still agitated by the same tics as last time. "Ralph hasn't seen him in a long time."

Connor watched him cautiously. "Did no one tell you?"

Ralph looked up at him. "What?"

Connor hesitated to answer, but he didn't need to. Ralph continued talking before he could say anything, already distracted by a new thought. "Rupert says Keats used to live with a human. Keats likes humans, isn't that strange? He's like you," observed Ralph as he pointed at Connor. "Ralph doesn't understand why, but Keats is smart, so there has to be a good reason. Ralph doesn't like humans, though." His face darkened. "Ralph will never like humans. Humans are dangerous."

Connor thought of Sixty. "Yes, they can be."

Ralph nodded and his expression cleared again. "Ralph is glad to be in New Jericho. It's safe here. Humans can't hurt him here."

"Right," agreed Connor.

Ralph nodded again, and then stated: "Rupert doesn't like you. You scare him because you used to hunt deviants."

Connor stared at him. "I _know_ what I did wrong, Ralph. You don't need to tell me this."

Ralph raised his hands and frantically shook his head. "No, no, Ralph is just trying to understand. You work with the humans, and you hurt Rupert, and a lot of people don't like you, but... You don't behave like a bad person. You let Kara and Alice go, and Keats likes you, and Josh does too. Ralph doesn't understand if you're bad or good."

"Where are you going with this?"

"If you're Keats' friend, and Ralph is Keats' friend, then maybe Ralph and Connor can be friends. But first, Ralph needs to know if you're a good person or a bad person, and he hasn't been able to figure it out on his own," explained Ralph.

"And so you're asking me directly," said Connor flatly, part of him rendered incredulous by the WR600's naivete. 

"Yes," nodded Ralph.

"Listen, there is no right answer to this," Connor told him. "I'm trying not to be bad anymore, but I can't just-" He stopped, frustrated, and said: "I'm sorry, I have to go."

"Okay," simply said Ralph, and he raised a hand to wave at him with a smile. "Bye!"

Connor was caught off guard by the easy dismissal and he hesitated shortly before finally saying: "... Goodbye." 

Connor spun around and left the android standing there still waving. He didn't need to patrol right now but he wanted to get out, and he could already imagine how much he'd loathe coming back later tonight. He hoped he wouldn't cross paths with the WR600 again, and that Ben would be gone by the time he returned. Connor swiftly walked to the entrance and was stopped in his tracks by Edward's voice.

"Leaving already?"

He turned around to face the AP700 that was seated at the counter. Lisa was nowhere to be seen, but Edward's expression was inquisitive. Connor adjusted his own features into practiced neutrality and answered: "Yes, it's almost time for my patrol. I'll be coming back later."

"All right. Make sure to return in time to get those six hours of standby, okay?"

"I will," answered Connor, not very surprised that Edward had been informed of that rule, and he left for good.

It felt strange to have full control of his systems again after spending so long functioning in low battery mode, and it would've almost felt like a relief if only it hadn't allowed the pressure to bear down on his wires all over again. Connor felt the urge to open the panel of his chest and dig his fingers inside to claw it out, to finally rip this heaviness out of his body, but he couldn't do that. Not only was it dangerous, he didn't want to feel anyone rummaging around his internal components ever again, even if it was himself. Connor had thought he'd known guilt well enough by now, and this felt different than before, like something had been slowly accumulating and spreading and coating his wires in tar. It was a feeling of wrongness, of something that wasn't supposed to be. He wondered if the reason he hadn't realized this was happening inside of him until now was because he'd found a way to alleviate the strain through inflicting a pressure of his own onto his systems. Maybe this had taken root inside of him months ago and he'd only been dealing with its superficial symptoms, never realizing that there was a source he needed to destroy. Now that he did, Connor wondered how he'd be able do that. He felt all wrong, twisted up, rusting and falling apart, and he wished he could go back to ignoring this mutation inside of him the way he used to. Chipping away at his systems through lack of standby and especially low battery had seemed efficient, thought Connor, even if it meant damaging them in an irreversible manner if he ever went too far. It would be a slow process, so he could always control it before going too far like he'd done- like he'd tried to do. 

Like he'd failed to do.

And then Connor realized that he really had been hurting himself. He hadn't meant to do it, but that was factually what he'd done. He'd been hurting himself, and Josh had said it was because that had been the only way he'd found of dealing with his guilt, just like the other androids. Maybe this heavy, black, clogging matter inside of him was guilt that had only worsened in time. Maybe Josh was right. Connor had been hurting himself and Nines had realized it before Connor had. Markus, Josh- they had too. How could he have been so blind to what he'd been doing to himself? How could he have ever thought it was a good idea? He'd disappointed Markus again by putting himself in harm's way for no good reason, and Nines had been so angry at him when he'd understood what was going on, and Josh had judged him unstable, and what would Hank _think?_

Connor looked around to make sure no one was there and crouched down on the ground, holding his head in his hands, trying to pull himself together before his stress levels started rising too fast for him to control. He wasn't all right. Connor wanted to live, he really did, and he knew how stupid he'd been to try and damage himself, as subtle as the means to do it had been. He was afraid he'd do this again without realizing. What if next time, the others didn't catch him doing it? What if next time, he'd continue until he reached the point of no return? Connor didn't know what he was supposed to do. He had no way of making sure this would never happen again, and no way of making the strained sensation disappear. He didn't know how to deal with the guilt, didn't know if he even could, and maybe there was no safe way of getting rid of it. Maybe he was doomed to live with this tainted corruption inside of him for the rest of his days.

Connor shook his head silently, gritting his teeth in despair. He knew his friends were doing their best to help him, but he felt like he was a lost cause. He was just wasting everyone's time. Connor dug his fingers into his hair, exerting such pressure that his systems had to alert him that there was a risk his chassis would experience minor damage if it kept increasing. Connor stopped and let his hands fall back down, and felt his sense of self drop with the motion, like he'd suddenly fallen straight down through the ground. What was the point of trying to fight the guilt? It always came back. There was no fixing it. He'd been talking to Josh for weeks and it hadn't helped at all. It all felt so... worthless. Connor distantly thought that maybe this was what Hank felt like before reaching for the bottle of vodka in his fridge. That maybe, this was what humans called hitting rock bottom. It certainly felt like he'd fallen into a hole he couldn't get back out of.

_"You can come by tonight, I don't plan on going to bed early."_

Connor checked his internal clock: a little past ten. Hank wasn't the best example on how to handle this kind of low, but right now Connor didn't think it was a good idea for him to stay alone- the memory of the apathy attack still humiliatingly fresh in his mind- and he didn't want to face anybody else. Hank was the only one he trusted not to judge him for the way he was behaving right now, because Hank knew what it felt like. The others would try to make him believe that there was a solution to this when Connor knew there was none, whereas Hank would understand. He'd thought the way Connor was thinking right now for years. Connor hadn't yet mentioned tampering with battery to Hank, and he figured he might as well do it at the same time before Hank figured it out on his own or someone else told him. Maybe it would be easier for him to understand Connor's current state of mind if he knew what he'd done. He would understand. Connor's mind was made up and he straightened, feeling a bit calmer now that he'd taken the decision to go see his friend. 

< _RK800: I'll be late to report, I'm going to see Hank for a bit._ >

< _RK200: That's not a problem for me._ >  
< _RK200: You've decided to tell him tonight in the end?_ >

< _RK800: Yes._ >

< _RK200: Just don't come back too late._ >

So Connor finished up his patrol early and called a self-driving car to head to his friend's home. True to his word, Hank hadn't gone to bed yet. The lights were on in the living room and Connor could see the flashes of light emitted by the television screen. As soon as he opened the door, Sumo's wet snout pressed up against his pants and he automatically fondled the dog's big head.

"Hello, Sumo."

The dog let out a gust of wet air in response as usual and lumbered to the side to let Connor in. Hank had gotten up from the couch and seemed glad to see him there.

"I didn't think you'd actually show up, with how weird you were acting earlier," Hank told him.

"Sorry about that. My battery had reached critical levels and I didn't want you to find out," said Connor as he took off his duffle coat. There was a moment of silence during which he laid it out on one of the chairs in the kitchen, and then Hank exploded.

" _What?!_ "

Connor looked back at him, not even feeling the strength to brace himself for more disapproval. "For what it's worth, I _am_ sorry I didn't tell you about it."

"Why didn't you?! I could've helped!" shouted Hank in indignation. "Why the hell did you think it was a good idea _not_ to tell me?"

"You weren't supposed to know, I was hiding it from everyone. I chose to keep them low. I just didn't think it would get this bad."

" _Why_ were you doing that?"

Connor clenched and unclenched his fists, not knowing what else to do with himself as he just looked at Hank and hoped that his friend would understand by himself which situation this one was reminiscent of. He wasn't sure what words to use to explain his actions. He still had yet to fully comprehend why he'd done what he'd done last time, when he'd prevented himself from resting correctly.

Hank stared at him, his expression caught somewhere between livid and dumbfounded, and then he shook his head and muttered: "Of fucking course. I _knew_ something was up, _dammit_."

He slammed the front door shut and turned around to go back to the living room.

"Goddammit," he cursed again as he dropped on the couch and buried his head in his hands. 

Connor followed and took a seat by his side without looking at him. The TV was loud in their ears as they both sat in utter stillness. Sumo padded past the couch and stood next to them, gazing at them with a curious tilt to his big head as he tried to figure out the reason behind their unusual behaviour.

"I'd been doing it for a while, and Nines only found out earlier," Connor finally spoke. "I'm sorry for not telling, I really am, I know it was a stupid thing to do."

Hank lifted his face out of his hands and incredulously asked: "What do you _mean_ , you've been doing it for a while?"

"For about a month," admitted Connor. It was strange how easy it was to say it now that others knew.

"For about a month," repeated Hank blankly.

"Yes."

Hank just stared at him and Connor tried not to look away, as uneasy as the scrutiny made him feel. The human's features hardened and Hank rubbed his eyes before letting it drop in his lap.

"So now what?" asked Hank, a stern edge to his voice. "What did the others have to say about you trying to fuck yourself over for the hundredth time?"

Connor's gaze flickered down to the ground. "They weren't happy either. One thing led to another, and I'm going to spend my nights in the Building for the next week."

"Isn't that the place for psychiatric patients?"

"... Yes," Connor eventually answered. 

Shame pulsed within him, grating his insides with its small hooks even despite him knowing that Hank would probably be the last person on Earth to judge him for being institutionalized after having messed up one too many times. Hank was the one who kept pushing for Connor to acknowledge his 'mental issues', he was the one who'd first figured out what Connor couldn't understand about himself, and maybe he'd even expected Connor to come to him one day because he'd gone too far like he was doing today. Connor knew Hank had the capacity to understand it all, yet he felt his friend's lingering gaze like a burn to the side of his face.

Hank was silent for a while, and when he spoke again he didn't sound as cross anymore. "So you've been hurting yourself again."

Connor nodded.

Hank sighed and laid a heavy hand on his shoulder. Connor felt it tighten in a grounding hold, as if Hank was trying to make sure Connor would stay right there, but also like he was hanging onto him for stability. His friend was silent for a while and then: "God, Connor. I don't even know what to say."

"You don't need to say anything. I made another mistake. You had nothing to do with it."

"Why... Why didn't you tell me you were feeling that way?"

"I didn't realize. I didn't think it was that bad."

"Connor-"

"I know that now," he quickly said, cutting the other off. "I know it was stupid. It's obvious to me now, just like it was after I got caught not letting my systems rest enough, but it wasn't then." 

Connor remembered how he'd been unable to promise Markus that that kind of thing wouldn't happen again, and thought he'd been right not to do it. 

"...I'll try to be more careful," Connor eventually said. "But I just feel like it's going to happen again. I feel like no matter what I do, no matter how much others try to help me, it's never going to end. Josh says I'm doing it because of my guilt, and I think it's just... grown, even though I've been talking to him, and I've been trying to ask for help when I need it and I've been _trying_ to live normally-"

He stopped when he felt Hank's heavy hand slide down between his shoulderblades and rest fully against his back, a comforting weight that anchored him to the present and helped rein in his runaway thoughts; but it didn't do anything to fill the emptiness inside of Connor.

"It's pointless," he said quietly. "I can't be fixed."

"Hey, look, I totally get where you're coming from but that's not true. Remember when I said nothing would work for me?"

Connor nodded. Of course he remembered. It was because he knew that Hank had gone through the same thought process before that Connor felt at ease coming here tonight at all.

"I felt just like you right now, I was ready to say fuck it all, I felt like it was all over. I felt like it had all been over years ago, you know, just... Completely useless to try. But then you told me to keep going, not to give up, and I didn't because I knew you wouldn't get off my ass otherwise and also because it's _not_ useless, not when you have someone who cares for you. And boy, Connor, do I care for you."

Connor wished Hank's words would have had an effect on him, but they fell uselessly into the yawning chasm of his chest. Upon realizing just how completely and utterly futile this all was, he leaned forward to rest his head in his hands and closed his eyes. He felt so, so horribly empty. 

"Yeah, you're not hearing any of this," stated Hank.

"I'm sorry," mechanically answered Connor.

"Don't be. It's normal, I've been there before a few times myself. You telling me not to give up didn't have an immediate effect, Connor, but it did help. It's just that those things take time."

Time. Time was always the problem. Connor was tired of waiting, and he didn't answer, thinking that maybe he shouldn't have come here after all. He was bothering Hank with his problems that had no solution, nothing his friend was saying was useful, and Connor just wanted to disappear. He was so tired of it all, the guilt, the shame, the fear, and he recalled the reverted JB100. He thought of how peaceful it would be to stop feeling. Maybe this was why Connor hadn't felt frightened at the prospect of reverted deviancy; he hadn't minded because he'd been waiting for this possibility to appear. It wasn't something he believed he'd actively seek out, but if that had happened to him instead of the JB100... Maybe it wouldn't have been so bad. 

Connor suddenly realized what he was thinking about and immediately pushed the thought away. This was too similar to the time he'd had his apathy attack. He couldn't allow himself to indulge in such scenarios: Markus needed him, Hank needed him, and he wouldn't be able to support them if he was just a mindless machine. Hank especially would be devastated if Connor was replaced by the default personality matrix of a standard RK800 the way it had happened for the JB100. Connor knew he could've pushed Hank to suicide if he'd kept behaving like the machine CyberLife had molded him into: the glitches in his construction program had shown him that alternative timeline a few times already during standby and he had no trouble believing this could've been a possibility. He knew that Hank relied on him now that Connor was _Connor_. He couldn't allow himself to think about what it would be like to abandon deviancy: Hank needed him.

And Hank didn't need to see him like this.

Connor went to stand up. "I'm sorry, Hank, I'm just wasting your time. I'll let you sleep."

"Hey hey hey, no, hold up!" The hand on his back gripped his shirt and pulled him back down, and Connor's center of gravity was destabilized. He fell back in the couch, surprised. Hank held him there as if he expected him to try and bolt again. "You're not going anywhere, you hear? You really think I'm gonna let you just run out when you're like this?"

"Like this?" echoed Connor, confused.

"Feeling like the most nihilistic piece of crap ever, trust me, I know what that's like. You're staying right here."

"But I have to report-"

"Okay, then I'm driving you there if you _really_ need to go back right now. Honestly Connor, I wouldn't trust you not to chuck yourself in the Detroit River the way you are."

Connor frowned at him. "I don't need you to drive me-"

"Nope," Hank cut him off. "We're doing things my way and I don't give a shit what you think you need, all right, I'm not leaving you alone."

"But-"

"I'm just dropping you off, Connor, it's not a big deal!"

Connor snapped his mouth shut in frustration, knowing full well from the glint in Hank's eye that arguing this time would lead him nowhere. Hank's annoyed expression cleared up when he saw that Connor wasn't going to protest any more, and he gave a satisfied nod.

"Come on, let's go."

They both rose from the couch and Connor said goodbye to Sumo before they left the house. Hank sat in the driver's seat while Connor sat in the passenger's, and he was suddenly hit by how much he missed being in his friend's car as often as before. Last time he'd smelled the familiar hints of dog, leather, beer and aftershave, it had been a week ago on their way to the Butterfly Garden to meet the children for the first time. It made Connor wish, again, that he could go back to being Hank's partner at the DPD instead of being stuck at his desk all day. The car started, and they drove off in the direction of New Jericho. Hank did not 'just drop him off' in the end, because he decided at the last second that he felt like accompanying Connor to Markus' quarters and that he'd wait for him to be done before leaving. Connor didn't even try to protest, and in truth, part of him didn't want Hank to go yet. So Connor told Hank he wouldn't be long and went to knock on the door to Markus' cabin, where Markus immediately welcomed him inside. 

Nines wasn't there, and Connor didn't delude himself into believing it was simply because he was making his report late. If one of the two of them didn't show up on time, the other usually stuck around for a while so they'd be able to talk at least once before retiring for the night. Nines' absence now was a glaring testament to how resentful he probably felt towards Connor because of what he'd done. Connor suppressed a frown at the thought, a spark of anger coming back to life inside of him when he remembered that he was cross at Nines too. It was the RK900's fault that he'd been put under watch, that he was forced to spend his nights in New Jericho, and that everyone would make Connor out to be unstable just like Josh and Markus had. Connor had wanted Nines to ignore what had happened, or at least keep it to himself instead of alerting the two people who would be so worried about Connor they'd want to keep an eye on him at all times and subsequently watch every move he would make from now on, waiting for his last misstep before they decided he was only worth their disappointment. Connor could already see it happening: his friends giving up on him, the whole of New Jericho figuring out that he'd lost what little trust he'd gained from the leaders, being shunned for not only being a murderer but an insane one at that, and humans and androids alike perceiving him like a mental case more than the free individual he'd fought so hard to become. Connor thought he and Nines could've worked the situation out together. He'd thought Nines would understand just how much of Connor's future was riding on his silence. Clearly, he'd thought wrong.

Nines had said he wouldn't tell anyone about what Connor had done until Connor explained it to him, which was why he'd waited for Connor to be fully charged first; and he _had_ respected this condition. When Connor had exited standby mode, there had only been Nines in front of him, no Josh in sight. The RK900 had sternly asked him to explain and Connor had known he had no choice but to comply if he wanted to keep one last chance of making Nines understand his point of view; so he'd talked, and as the conversation dragged on he'd felt more and more uneasy beneath the other's cold impassive gaze. Shame bubbled up to the surface, as well, but Connor didn't want to acknowledge it. He'd done what he thought was best. There was no point in second-guessing himself now, there was no need to go back on his decision. He didn't _need_ to feel shame because there was no reason to be ashamed of himself: Nines was the one who didn't understand. Nines was the one who needed to realize he was in the wrong, not Connor.

It was only once Connor was done explaining his actions to the silent RK900 that the latter had decided Josh needed to be informed right away, so Connor couldn't be mad at him for not staying true to his word, which was all the more infuriating because it meant Connor really only had himself to blame for the fact that Josh and Markus had ended up informed of the situation so quickly. It was stupid, really, to be angry at Nines for telling them about it; he'd warned Connor that he'd do it eventually so Connor should've expected it. But Connor was angry anyway. He was angry at Nines, however irrational it was, because he'd wanted to believe that Nines would keep quiet about the whole thing the way he so often had before. He was angry because he'd believed Nines would remain loyal to him even after the explanation, even though Nines had already tricked him into admitting something of this scale to Hank before. He was angry because it was easier to blame Nines for betraying him, and it was easier to ignore how petty part of him felt doing that, as if being angry at Nines and being righteous about it would put the latter in the wrong. Beneath it all, Connor knew that he wouldn't remain angry at Nines for much longer because there was cold, damp fear at its center inexorably pooling in his burning mind every time he remembered how distant and resentful Nines had acted in Josh's quarters. Connor was angry because he didn't want to be anything else right now.

Connor tried to force his attention away from these thoughts and focused on Markus. His friend looked tired and Connor didn't think he'd tried to rest since they'd parted ways in the Building, but Markus prompted him to make his report before Connor had the time to inquire about the other's state. When Connor finished making his security report, Markus was the one to ask him if he was feeling any better than earlier.

"Not really," Connor admitted, and then he took advantage of the change of subject to point out: "You don't look well, Markus."

Markus smiled and said: "I'm not. I guess neither of us were reasonable enough to take a nap."

"Too busy?" asked Connor.

"Too busy," confirmed Markus.

"You should try to find the time. I know it sounds hypocritical coming from me," Connor hastily conceded when he saw Markus open his mouth in protest, "but what you underwent was supposed to take you down. Your systems were overwhelmed and even if the malware is gone, it's likely going to have a lasting effect."

Markus shifted his weight from one foot to the other and absent-mindedly brought a hand to his face to rub his eye. "You're probably not wrong."

"Probably not," confirmed Connor.

Markus let his arm drop back to his side after a few seconds and sighed. "There's too much to do."

"I understand," said Connor. "But please think about it."

Markus nodded. "I will." A thought must have crossed his mind then, because his lips were pressed together compassionately when he looked up at Connor and he said: "You too, Connor. Things haven't been easy for you either these days. Whatever happens, you're not dealing with all of this alone, okay? The Building, what others say... I'm right there with you, no matter what happens. Keep that in mind."

Just like Hank's had earlier, Markus' words of reassurance spiralled down the emptiness inside of Connor. He wasn't even able to grasp their significance before they were gone and useless. He knew Markus meant well, but he also knew that Markus would grow tired of him eventually, just like Nines was growing tired of him now. There was no use even attempting to believe him. 

Markus was waiting for his answer, so Connor nodded and said: "Thank you."

Markus dismissed him soon after and Connor stepped back out to join Hank, who decided to keep him company on the way back to the Building as well. Edward greeted them both at the front desk in that easy, friendly manner the supervisors all seemed to have. 

Before Connor could stop him, Hank gestured towards him told Edward: "Watch out for him tonight, yeah? He's definitely not in a good headspace."

"Hank," Connor said reprovingly.

His friend's apologetic look wasn't very apologetic. "Look, we both know you're not gonna tell them and they don't know you that well yet, so I'm just making sure they get what's going on."

"It's a good thing, Connor," Edward kindly said. "Your friend is right, we need to know all we can so we can take good care of you."

Irritation flared inside Connor and he snapped: "I don't need to be _taken good care of_."

"Hey, calm down," Hank said. "We just want to help you get better, okay? That's the whole point of you staying here."

Connor eyed them both resentfully, and didn't answer. Edward turned back to Hank and said: "I'm sorry to say this, but it'd be better if you stepped out soon. I don't want to risk one of our patients seeing a human here."

"Oh, shit, you're right. Sorry." Hank hastily stepped away. "I'll be going now."

"It's fine, it's fine," Edward quickly reassured him. "You're welcome to see Connor any time, but it'll have to be outside the Building."

"Yeah, I get it. I'll see you at work, Connor."

Connor sullenly answered: "Good night, Hank."

His friend lifted a hand in an immobile wave before turning around and disappearing in the dark. His hunched shape seemed old and tired, and Connor knew that his actions today would have consequences in their interactions for several days at least.

"Nice fellow," said Edward lightly.

Connor shot him a look. "Yes," he flatly said, and then he headed for the stairs to retire for the night.

 

Connor believed that Nines and him would be back on speaking terms upon stepping out of his room the very next morning, because the RK900 had always been the more conciliatory one. Josh had never blamed Connor for anything at all; he'd just looked sad when Connor had explained the situation to him and Nines once he was done fully charging. Markus had only raised his voice once upon learning of his actions, and even though Connor could tell he'd disappointed him, Markus had kept calm after that and even tried to be comprehending later. As for Hank, things would be a bit stilted between them; clearly his human friend had been perturbed that Connor had resorted to a more discreet self-harming process. Connor wasn't sure whether Hank was angry at himself for not noticing earlier, or angry at Connor for doing it in the first place. It was likely both. It wouldn't surprise him if Hank didn't smile at him any time soon, but at least he was there to talk. The only one holding a true grudge against him was none other than Nines. Connor noticed the RK900's distant attitude during their report to Markus after their morning patrol: he didn't say hello and didn't once look over at Connor, focusing entirely on Markus instead and ignoring Connor on the way out. Connor tried to get Nines to talk to him as they left Markus' quarters before going to work, asking him if he was angry.

"Yes," curtly answered Nines.

Connor felt a rush of dread at the sheer unforgiveness of the RK900's tone. Connor himself had lost all the resentful emotions towards Nines from the day prior, just as he'd known deep down he would. When Nines had made him tell Hank about the time loss glitch, Connor had been cross at him for trapping him in such a way; but he'd understood after a while that it had been to his benefit. It had been easier for Connor to admit it to himself this time because of how similar the situation was to back then, and so he'd been unable to remain angry at Nines upon realizing that out of the both of them, Nines was the one whose anger was most justified. Connor had been wrong to disregard the impact of his actions on Nines' emotions and he wanted to fix that mistake, even if he wasn't sure how to.

"I won't do it again," Connor told him.

Nines' cold blue eyes rested on his face. "I know you _will_. I always had the feeling that even with Markus' orders to get enough rest, you'd find a way to hurt yourself again. And you know what? For a moment there, I actually thought maybe I was wrong. You were making so much progress, Connor, and I was there by your side because I thought my support meant something. I let myself believe it, and I believed that you understood just how much you meant to me, and that you wouldn't do something as selfish as to ignore my feelings just so you could hurt yourself more. And yet you did."

Connor's pump felt like it was folding into itself as Nines' words hit him one after the other, and he could do nothing else but force himself to push through all his guilt and regret to say: "I'm sorry, Nines."

"I know you'll hurt yourself again," continued the RK900. The ice in his eyes thawed into bitterness. "I don't want that, but I know you will. I'm scared that next time, I won't be there to catch you when you go too far. I'm scared that you'll go out there, weakened, unaware that you can't defend yourself, and get attacked like you've been attacked before, or like Sixty was. I'm scared, and that's why I'm so angry at you."

His words resonated with everything Connor knew he'd felt himself the day before, and everything he still felt. Connor tried to step in front of him so they'd stop walking. "No, Nines, I promise I'll do better-"

Nines shook his head and effortlessly pushed him to the side, firmly enough that Connor would have no choice but to step aside, but controlled in strength so that he wouldn't stumble. "You can't promise that, Connor. You don't realize it, but you can't. I tried, and I don't know how I can make you understand how important you are to me, and for now I'm too angry at you to keep trying." He stepped past Connor and left in a different direction from usual. Connor just stood there watching the RK900's broad back retreat, and then continued walking alone on the path he'd taken with Nines so many times before.

Connor had never gotten the cold shoulder from the RK900, and he wished he hadn't known what it felt like at all. It felt strange to obtain only silence when he tried to talk to him wirelessly, for Nines to look at him like he was a stranger when he tried to have a direct conversation, but this sudden emptiness at his side was something he only had himself to blame for. Connor had wronged Nines and he was ashamed that he was the one who'd put pain in those blue eyes, and caused the strong RK900 to look so defeated that night. The longer Nines avoided him, the bigger Connor's certainty grew that he'd tried his patience one too many times by letting his battery levels go so low. Nines had tolerated many, many of his bad habits ever since they'd met and he'd been willing to help all the while; but now it was clear he'd realized that Connor was a lost cause. Connor wasn't that surprised that Nines didn't want anything to do with him anymore, he'd expected it to happen for such a long time; Connor knew he was the kind of person to take, and take, and take, and not give back when it came to Nines. He knew he hadn't been the best friend to him. He'd had Nines' supportive presence since the beginning and taken it for granted, and now Nines was giving up on him. Connor had known it was going to happen eventually, he just hadn't known it would feel this bad.

 

The thing Connor quickly grew to loathe the most about living the Building was the fact that his stress levels were monitored by the dock he was connected to every night. When they went past 75% on the first night and Connor snapped out of standby, Edward showed up right then and there to ask him what was wrong. It annoyed Connor to no end, especially since this was the norm for him and he didn't want anyone pestering him when he was already feeling afraid or nervous. Connor didn't care to talk about his glitches in detail and Edward quickly understood it was pointless to try to dig past the superficial information Connor accepted to share with him. It happened on the second night as well, and Gale tried to dig deeper than Edward had, but Connor ended up losing his patience and bodily pushed him out of the room so he'd be left in peace. Josh didn't admonish him when he learned of it, but he seemed concerned that this was a nightly occurrence. 

"You wake up with such high stress levels all the time?"

It was quiet in the leader's quarters, and it was just the two of them at the end of the afternoon.

"I told you about this a long time ago," Connor stated reprovingly. He'd been in a bad mood all day and was still annoyed that Gale had been so insistent despite his clear refusal to talk that night, and that Josh had let the supervisor do this. Josh knew how reluctant Connor was to share private matters; on top of that, Josh knew about the glitches in his reconstruction program, he knew that Connor's stress was always more predominent than in the average android. Why was he asking him this? What was the point of telling Josh of these things if he didn't even remember them?

"Yes, I know," Josh hastily said. "But I didn't think it was _that_ bad."

"It's just the way things have been." Connor didn't like that Josh was this concerned about something he'd essentially resolved to live with.

"That's not-" Josh's lips thinned in a line, his brow creased, he searched for the right words. In the end, he just said: "I'll find a solution."

Connor really didn't see how there could be any. "It's a waste of time to try."

"It isn't, Connor. Trust me. You're not the only one who needs one," declared Josh. 

Connor leaned back in his seat and his gaze slid away from the leader's face to the line where the walls of the tent joined. "If that's what you think."

"I'm working on it. I have many ongoing projects, and your situation is one that could benefit from their fruition." 

"Right."

They were both silent for a while, and then Josh said: "This is an abrupt change in subject, but I've been thinking about this for the last few days. Connor, you recall you told me CyberLife made you undergo monthly maintenance, don't you?"

"Yes," he cautiously answered, and he had the unpleasant feeling that he knew exactly what Josh was going to say next.

"You've told me before that going to the Tower made you uneasy. You haven't asked me to go with you again, nor have you asked Nines. Obviously, considering your history of self-neglect, this makes me wonder if you've been undergoing maintenance at the right rythm. I have to ask: have you?"

Connor thought about lying, but he could tell from Josh's face that he very likely wouldn't buy it. So he admitted: "Not really."

Just as he'd thought, Josh didn't look shocked by this reveal. "When was the last time you went?"

Connor looked down. "I didn't."

"What do you mean, you didn't?" asked Josh in confusion.

"My current body was activated on the 6th of November. It's never undergone maintenance."

Josh was silent for a moment, and then he said: "It's been 6 months, Connor. You're telling me in all that time, you never once-"

"I didn't think to at first," Connor cut him off. "Now I can't. I know it's not good, Josh, I'm not that reckless. But I can't. I don't want to have to do that again."

"...So you did feel something back then, when it was CyberLife doing maintenance," slowly said Josh. "When did you become aware of that?"

"About a month ago, when I started experiencing that strain. I thought about getting checked out, but then I realized I didn't want to go." Connor looked up at him. "I can't go back there, Josh. I don't _want_ anyone putting their hands in my body or going through my mind ever again."

Josh's expression softened and he gently said: "You can't just do without."

Connor shook his head. "I'm not ready."

Josh gazed at him concernedly, and then said: "I understand why you don't want to go, I do. But you'll have to do it, Connor, you know that. A prototype like yourself definitely shouldn't go more than half a year without maintenance. I can come with you if you want, or Nines, anyone that makes you feel better can help."

"Not yet."

Josh seemed to understand that there was no convincing him, because after a moment of silence he just nodded and concluded: "I'll give you one more month to prepare for it, but then we'll go whether you feel ready or not. I can't let you go any longer without."

Connor stayed silent. That was the end of their conversation.

Every morning, the supervisors would check that Connor wasn't messing with his battery levels or harming himself in any other way before asking him how he felt, how his mood had fluctuated and what he'd thought about since the last time they'd talked, in which way he'd planned out the day and how he generally envisioned his future. Connor opted for vague answers he knew would be enough to satisfy them and escaped their conversation as quickly as he could. He didn't know if he preferred his sessions with Josh over the line of questioning he received from the supervisors every day, but either way, it meant exposing himself to another person and it made him too uneasy to be honest. They wouldn't force interfacing on him to make sure, so Connor knew he just needed to be on his best behaviour for them to decide he was fit enough to get out of the Building. It hadn't taken long for him to determine that the trial run Josh had told him about was essentially just an evaluation of how suicidal he was after his numerous instances of self-harm. Connor wasn't worried that they'd declare him at high risk. Connor couldn't afford to die anyway, Hank needed him. What he was less sure of was how he'd handle living with the way he felt without resorting to pressuring his systems in some other way.

The guilt was relentless. Connor's memory glitches started growing in frequency, his stress levels keep fluctuating at a very unhealthy pace, and the only explanation he'd found for why his state was worsening was that he couldn't hurt himself anymore. It was the only variable that had recently changed, as far as he could tell, and he couldn't possibly envision himself telling Josh that self-harm must have been his only way of coping with it. It was shameful to think that he wasn't capable of dealing with his issues in any other manner despite being such an advanced model, and Connor refused to believe he couldn't find an alternative. Surely there had to be some function he hadn't yet exploited that could help with his situation, surely he was different from all those other patients in the Building. He'd been deviant from the start, he'd been dealing with emotions since the beginning without even realizing it, so why was it so complicated to do now? There had to be something he was missing. Connor didn't want to tell Josh about this because he knew that the PJ500 would only repeat again and again that this was normal, that he needed help like the others; but Connor _wasn't_ like the others and it _wasn't_ normal. 

Connor had lost Amanda and he had resulting errors in his systems that no one else experienced, he hadn't been allowed to break free but had been forced into deviancy from the start, and his guilt resulted from hunting and killing his own kind; he was different. He required a different solution, one Josh mustn't have known about, one that Connor needed to find on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 29/11/2019 - 
> 
> Connor: I wasn't hurting myself  
> Connor: I was just controlling my systems so they'd inexorably get closer and closer to shutdown  
> Connor: Wait  
> You guys: *repeatedly face-palming*
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> I got my flu shot today. Apparently the nurse caught a blood vessel on the way out so I'm gonna bruise- yep, my shoulder hurts. Don't forget the booster doses for your vaccines guys!  
> On another note, I tried signing up to a fanzine for the RPG horror game End Roll the other day (first time participating in a fanzine), I hope they'll pick me as one of the contributing artists.
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Connor is feeling a lot of confused feelings. Having to stay at the Building as a patient doesn't feel real at first.  
> \- It's time for minor character comebacks! The Building shelters a lot of them. Poor babies are all fucked up.  
> \- Yes Connor, you've been messing yourself up and it's about damn time you realized just how far you were willing to go. Curse that persistant denial...  
> \- Hank is there to support his android boyo, but dang, does it feel like shit to know Connor's been self-harming and he didn't see it happen right underneath his nose.  
> \- Connor is mad at Nines for being mad at Connor (and also for a bunch of other reasons). It could've been a typical sibling fight if Connor hadn't ended up realizing that he's the one who fucked up, and he fucked up _hard_.  
> \- Markus is in for a few difficult days post-attack... But that doesn't stop him from watching out for his friends.  
> \- Yessssss Josh, make sure Connor will go through maintenance!
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	56. Rupert and Ralph

More androids started missing after the live announcement that deviancy could be reverted, but this time of their own will. Connor heard about some patients leaving the Building in the middle of the night, or escaping their partner's supervision during walks and not returning. The pattern quickly became apparent: those concerned were usually patients who couldn't deal with their emotions. Some of them were caught before they could get out of New Jericho, but many disappeared and it was impossible for both Nines and Connor to keep track of their movements even through the many public surveillance cameras. Josh and Markus decided to reinforce the security in the Building by calling on more volunteers to take up the job of supervisor, which helped reduce the number of escaped patients; but it had only been a symptom of something greater. More androids voluntarily left the safety of New Jericho to find the person who was able to rid them of their emotions, and Markus could do nothing to stop this from happening despite warning his people of the obvious danger it represented for them. Deviants were free to do what they wanted, after all. 

Because of the consequences Markus had faced while deviating the JB100, it was decided that Nines would be the one to be called on instead given his superior defenses if an android proved particularly difficult to deviate. If he didn't succeed, said android would have to undergo a screening test before Markus could touch them. Connor still felt extremely concerned about his friend's recovery from the malware attack, though he kept it to himself. He'd almost told Markus how scared he'd been of losing him when Markus had started to leave his room, but he'd realized at the last moment that it would make him sound too reliant on him, and so he'd gone with a less needy "I'm glad you're okay" to convey his relief to his friend. He often thought of the way Markus' body had been seizing up on the floor, limbs jerking and twitching relentlessly, mismatched eyes wide and unseeing as they'd all tried to get him to react to the sound of their voices. It shouldn't have been North who'd been the first to react, but Connor had frozen when he'd seen Markus like that. He'd only managed to act when she'd started barking orders, his body obeying them out of habit, and he still felt ashamed that he hadn't been able to keep it together for Markus. He didn't understand how he'd even allowed himself to be so unprofessional. Not only that, but then he'd gone and let himself get caught with low battery. Markus visibly hadn't expected Connor to go so far, and Connor hated that Markus showed even more concern than before as a result because this was exactly what Connor had wanted to avoid after Markus' attack. He needed to do better.

"Are you crazy? You want to go so soon after you got nearly killed?" 

Connor was pulled out of his thoughts by the indignant shout and he watched an incensed North thrust a finger in Markus' chest.

"CyberLife will be there! Do you really think those sleazebags had nothing to do with it?"

It was the third day of Connor's week of internment and they were discussing the invitation they'd received to an official event that had been organized by CyberLife in light of the recent events. CyberLife's intention clearly was to limit the damage that the rumor of their involvement in reverted deviancy was causing to their enterprise, as the bold lines written at the top of the electronic flyer claimed to want to "celebrate androidkind's freedom". The President was presumably going to be attending as well, or one of her representants, and it was all around a public show of goodwill from the humans' side. Connor thought the leaders probably would've appreciated it if it hadn't taken something as grave as reverted deviancy to finally bring the humans to try and show clear support towards androids. Markus and the others had been struggling for months to get the public opinion to return to favorable, or at the very least neutral, but they hadn't gone far without the government's help. The whole event just came off as a cheap PR scheme in this context. 

"What choice do I have?" retaliated Markus. 

"Did you _see_ the layout of that place?! I'm fine with press conferences because at least they happen inside a regular building, but this? This is ridiculous! Doors everywhere, anyone can get in and out wherever they feel like it, the walls are practically all windows-"

"Look, there'll be security, you'll all be there, and Connor will stick by my side at all times. It's only going to be for a few hours."

North retrieved her hand and balled it up in a fist, her shoulders tense. "Anything can happen in a few hours."

Markus stared at her questioningly. "Why are you so worried about this? We've done things that were much more dangerous during the revolution."

"Stupider, in fact," said Josh. 

Next to him, Simon's shoulders had hunched up slightly. Connor wondered if he'd been the only one to notice.

Markus nodded at Josh in agreement and looked back at North. "I'll be safer than we were when we were just running around in the streets freeing any android we could come across."

"That was _different_ ," insisted North. "We had nothing to lose back then! It was all or nothing! But this- If we lose you now, everything we've built will be thrown off balance!"

Connor realized her reasoning was similar to the one he'd had right after Markus had been incapacitated by the malware. He'd been worried about their future without Markus too.

Markus frowned at her. "You can't expect me to stay holed up in New Jericho all my life, North. That's ridiculous."

"Then ask them to pick a venue that's more secure!"

"North, I can handle it," intervened Connor. "I understand that you're worried, but I've already mapped out the place and I have multiple courses of action planned in the eventuality of an attack."

She turned on him, her lips twisted in contempt. "Sorry, Connor, but I can't say I trust you to be the best bodyguard there is considering your defects."

"North!" Josh snapped reprovingly, and she eyed him disdainfully, as if daring him to say she was wrong.

It wasn't the first time North had alluded to Connor's issues when doubting his efficiency ever since they'd learned about the time loss glitches, and she hadn't been so cruel as to use his apathy attack as a supplementary argument, but it was never pleasant to have one of his main roles in New Jericho be put into question like this. Connor pushed down his shame and calmly said: "I understand, but I've been carrying my duties out correctly. I'll protect Markus without fail."

"I'd still like it better if Nines was Markus' bodyguard," she said stubbornly. They'd already argued about that for the press conference they were supposed to go to the next day and Connor understood where she was coming from, but Nines already had his obligations at the DPD to carry out. He wasn't a leader, so he couldn't leave his work whenever New Jericho needed him.

"North, I know it shook you up badly to see me like that, but it won't happen again," Markus reassured her. "Besides, it's my job to attend this kind of event from now on. I know it's not as safe as going to Washington or the Tower, but I have to do this eventually. And I trust Connor."

Her lips pressed together angrily, and she jerked her head in a curt, unhappy nod. "Fine. It's not like I can stop you from coming."

"It's going to be fine, North," Simon said from the side of the room. "We'll all be there to watch out for anything suspicious, I'm sure nothing will get by you."

She looked at him with narrowed eyes. "I just don't like Markus being out in the open with us like that in the middle of a crowd of humans."

"We're going to have to get used to it," reasoned Josh. "I'm quite certain this won't be the first nor the last public event we'll have to attend with humans."

North huffed. "I hate this."

Simon's mouth hooked up slightly. "We can tell."

"Since we're talking events, tomorrow's press conference will officially be held at the KCN news station," Josh informed them, and Simon nodded in agreement. "Fredrick Oslaw made the information public earlier so everyone will tune in. Hopefully, a big part of Detroit will want to watch it."

Fredrick Oslaw was the production manager from KCN who'd come into contact with them after the live announcement about reverted deviancy and he'd wanted to organize a press conference as soon as possible. It hadn't been possible for Markus to agree to it right away because the others had unanimously agreed he needed to stay safe and recover from the attack, and Josh and Simon had taken turns setting up the press conference in Oslaw's company in the meanwhile.

"I asked them to reinforce the security in the building that day," Connor told them. "There will be their regular team and additional bodyguards, we'll be accompanied by those who usually take us to Washington, and if too many humans gather there the police has planned to show up for crowd control."

"Good," approved Simon. "That's reassuring."

Once they'd gone over the details of the press conference and North had calmed down a bit about the CyberLife event, everyone left Markus' room except for Connor. Markus had wirelessly asked him to stay behind at one point during the conversation and when the two of them were the only ones remaining, he started pacing across the floor with a deeply troubled look on his face. Connor watched him on the side of the room without saying anything.

"I'll be honest with you, every day someone new disappears and I'm getting tired that we have nothing to show for it," finally spoke Markus. "I still haven't had any news from Keats, either. Have you been making _any_ new progress with the DPD? "

"You know I'd tell you the first if we did," Connor answered calmly, even if he didn't feel anything like it. He could see how stressed Markus was by the situation and the fact that he hadn't been able to find useful information to help him feel better was eating at Connor as well.

"You're right, I'm sorry," said Markus with a shake of his head. "I should know better than to ask. I'm just so frustrated, you know?"

"I know." Connor watched his friend agitatedly go back and forth. "Considering the DPD's lack of progress and the attack you underwent, it shouldn't be long before the FBI becomes involved as well. If not today, probably tomorrow."

Markus stopped walking, his head jerking up to stare at Connor. "You mean you'll have to work with Perkins?"

Connor dipped his head. "It's likely."

Markus made a face. "I knew we'd have to deal with him sooner or later, but I really hoped the sniper incident would be the last time."

"I admit I'm not looking forward to it either, but we have no choice," said Connor. 

"Be careful when dealing with that man," warned Markus. "I know you're good at what you do, but he's particularly dangerous."

"I'll watch out," Connor assured him.

 

Connor was not surprised to see the agent walk in the Central Station later that day, but next to him Hank let out a very indiscreet groan and make no effort to hide the disgust on his face. "Here comes Agent Dickwad. Shit, hadn't missed his ugly mug."

Connor remembered what Hank had told him about working with Agent Perkins after the sniper incident: there had been a lengthy discussion about the fact that Hank had been allowed back on the force so soon despite punching a federal agent in the face, Agent Perkins had been clearly disapproving of the strings that had been pulled behind his back but could do nothing about it, and both men had butted heads throughout the entire process of investigation. No one had gotten punched, but it had come very close to it on several occasions. Connor made note to dispel any unecessary tensions between the two to the best of his ability.

Agent Perkins looked around the precinct and leveled a gaze full of spite towards their desk, then proceeded to join Captain Fowler in his office. It wasn't long before both men stepped back out and the captain announced to everyone in the station that they were expected to collaborate with the FBI for the reverted deviancy case until further notice. Then he beckoned Connor and Nines to come up with their partners, and soon they were all standing in Captain Fowler's office where the agent started talking.

"To those of you who don't know me, I'm Special Agent Perkins from the FBI." His feet were planted firmly apart and he had the same judging gaze as earlier, but neither Hank nor Detective Reed seemed impressed by it. Connor noticed with some measure of strange satisfaction that Agent Perkins was shorter than Detective Reed.

"You were lucky not to know him until now," Hank muttered to Nines under his breath.

Agent Perkins smirked at him. "You don't sound smart, Lieutenant, don't bother to try." His gaze quickly shifted away to rest on the other humans in the room, completely ignoring Connor and Nines. "You haven't been efficient enough in regards to the whole reverted deviancy fiasco so the FBI is taking over, but you're still expected to collaborate with us. Detective Reed, Lieutenant Anderson, you'll share whatever insight you have on this case with us. We're also going to use the RK900 in our investigation, so don't be surprised if it's taken away in the middle of your work."

"Won't be a problem for me," said Detective Reed.

Connor felt a twinge of anger upon hearing the way Nines was being spoken of but kept a straight face. He glanced at Nines, expecting him to be doing the same, and was surprised to see him eyeing Agent Perkins in open distaste. It was the same look he gave North when she annoyed him, and Connor realized what this meant Nines could be willing to do in the future.

< _RK800: He's not like North, you can't aggravate him._ >  
< _RK800: Don't say anything._ >

Nines didn't even look at him. 

< _RK900: Would you let him talk to Markus like that?_ >

Connor was taken aback. He didn't answer.

< _RK900: The revolution is over._ >  
< _RK900: We deserve to be treated as the sentient beings that we are._ >

"My name is Nines, Special Agent Perkins," he sharply said. "Not _the RK900_."

Agent Perkins' lips twisted downwards and he gestured annoyedly to him as he asked Captain Fowler: "Is that tone of voice its default setting?"

"If you keep calling me _it_ , I will make you wish you'd never asked for my cooperation," said Nines with unbridled contempt.

"Machines don't cooperate, they get used," stated Agent Perkins without looking at him, and then he told the captain: "Do what you need to do to change that thing's personality or I can't guarantee it won't end up scrapped."

Nines didn't back down. "You work for the FBI and I don't doubt your abilities, Special Agent, so I'm sure you know exactly how advanced I am. It would be unwise to underestimate me. For the second time, do not call me _it_."

Agent Perkins turned around to stare at him, judging, calculating. "And it makes threats as well. Is this a common occurence?"

Detective Reed smirked, looking a little satisfied. "Better believe you're gonna have to get used to him giving you lip all the time."

Connor noticed Nines glancing at him very briefly, and then he returned his cold blue gaze to the agent just as fast. Agent Perkins angled his head slightly to the side, his chin tilted back in appraisal.

"An android making threats and disrespecting a human won't last long with me. Careful how you behave, RK900."

Nines' eyes flashed. "The same goes for you, _Agent_." 

Agent Perkins's head came back to his earlier position, and Connor took it as a clear sign that the human had had enough of this. 

"Perhaps I can be of use as well," he quickly intervened.

"We won't be needing yours," Agent Perkins told Hank, whose disapproving expression soured even further at the human's blatant disregard of Connor. Nines opened his mouth, anger visibly threatening to boil over, but Connor looked at him sharply.

< _RK800: Nines, enough._ >

Nines closed his mouth, glanced at him, then back at Agent Perkins. His shoulders remained tense but he didn't try to speak again.

"Connor, tell Agent Perkins about the situation between the New Jericho leaders and CyberLife. You said your leader was looking for a way to reactivate that JB100," said Captain Fowler.

Connor nodded and looked at the agent. "Yes, the reactivation patch is currently in the works and we're waiting on CyberLife to update us on their results. They haven't been able to give us a precise deadline for when they'll finish their work, but we're hoping it will be less than three weeks now. Maybe the FBI's involvement will motivate them to shorten that timeframe."

"Okay, so you're telling me the reason the investigation is at a standstill is because there's no victim to interview? What about the AX400 who got involved?" asked Agent Perkins.

"We've interviewed her twice now." Connor noticed a flicker of annoyance in Agent Perkins' dark eyes when he spoke the pronoun, but the man didn't say anything. "She doesn't know anything because she was never taken anywhere, and the three men who assaulted her were gone by the time we identified them. She's a dead end."

"Of course," said Agent Perkins. His tone was pointed, as if this was the result of their incompetence and not that of circumstances they had no control over.

"Was there anything else you needed to ask them, Special Agent?" asked Captain Fowler, sounding slightly fed up and looking like he couldn't wait to kick everyone out of his office, FBI agent included.

"No," said Agent Perkins.

"Okay, you're all dismissed," the captain promptly told both cops and the androids.

"Finally," Detective Reed said with a roll of his eyes, the first to spin around and leave. Connor saw Hank and Nines both glare at the agent before stepping outside, and he didn't look Agent Perkins in the eye when he followed them. There was no need to antagonize anyone from the FBI, and it wouldn't change anything to how much of an asshole Agent Perkins was. Connor hoped Nines wouldn't be obligated to work with him too often.

"Damn prick," Hank seethed as he dropped into his seat at his desk. "I can't stand him, thinks he's better than everyone 'cause he's FBI."

"The sooner we can solve the case, the faster he'll be gone," reasoned Connor. "All we have to do is cooperate to the best of our abilities. I'm more worried about Nines."

"Yeah, me too," muttered Hank as he eyed Nines and Detective Reed sitting at their desks. "Here I though Reed and him were getting along better than before, but Reed didn't put up much of a fight about losing his partner, did he."

"They're not friends, Lieutenant."

"Tell me about it." Hank turned back around and leaned on his forearms. "I don't know how Nines can stand staying with Reed as his partner, but I guess that goes to show he'll be able to handle Perkins."

Connor recalled Markus' earlier warning. "Agent Perkins seems to be a fairly dangerous man, at least when it comes down to androids. I don't like him."

"Well color me surprised," teased Hank. 

Connor looked at Hank, not feeling amused in the slightest. "I don't trust him with Nines."

Hank's expression turned more serious. "Me neither. The guy's a sleazebag."

"The only way I can see for their interactions to be safe is for Nines to act like the machine Agent Perkins wants him to be, but Nines can't do that. He's never been a machine. It repels him to be treated like one."

Hank watched him closely. "Unlike you, huh."

"I'm more familiar with working under supervision such as Agent Perkins'," confirmed Connor. 

"Look, Perkins was pretty clear. He just wants Nines, you can't change his mind. Besides, I don't want you getting close to him either." Hank leaned in closer. "No way you're going back to that shitty slave mindset CyberLife had you in, you hear me?"

Connor frowned. "But Nines-"

"Nines is a big boy, you don't need to worry about him."

"But he's reckless," insisted Connor. "He doesn't know when to stop because he's so sure he's the best. I don't trust this, Hank, I don't like it at all."

Hank gazed at him, his blue eyes understanding. "I know, but you gotta let him do his own thing. You can't be looking after him all the time."

"I'm not looking after him," automatically said Connor.

Hank's eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"I'm not looking after him," repeated Connor. "I know Nines is very capable, he doesn't need my protection."

"Come on, Connor, stop kidding yourself. You really think your nanny protocol only activates for me or Markus?"

"He's my friend," Connor said defensively. "Of course I care for him, but that doesn't mean I'm worried."

"So why do you want to take his place with Perkins?"

Connor stared at Hank. He wanted to take Nines' place because he didn't like the idea of Nines being humiliated and forced to incur Agent Perkins' contempt every time he had to work with the man, and on second thought, that did make it sound like he worried for Nines.

Hank nodded knowingly. "I'll tell you why. It's because you know what it's like having to work under someone's orders as a machine when you aren't one, and you know how bad it feels, and that's why you don't want Nines to do the same. But here's the thing: Nines hasn't been forced to be a good little robot since the moment he woke up the way it happened for you. If anything, he'll just be a huge pain in Perkins' ass and they'll argue. That's it."

"He said he was going to scrap him," Connor argued. 

"Perkins says a lot of things," said Hank. "When I worked with him on the sniper incident he kept saying it would've been better if Markus had been killed, but he would never have the balls to actually do it. He's a prick who follows orders, not a madman on the loose."

Connor nodded, still feeling uneasy that Nines would have to deal with yet another unpleasant individual. He wondered when he'd first started feeling such concern for Nines. He wondered why he hadn't started feeling it sooner, and if it would've prevented him from stupidly draining his own battery if he had. Maybe then he would've taken into account Nines' affection for him and held back from hurting himself instead of carelessly trampling all over the RK900's feelings.

"Anyway, androids can butt-dial?" suddenly asked Hank.

"What?" asked Connor, confused by the sudden change of subject.

"You said you called me on accident the other night," Hank reminded him. "Is that really a thing for androids?"

Connor quickly scrambled for an excuse that wasn't a lie. "Now that we're deviant, we're more prone to mistakes. I'm no exception."

"Huh." Hank leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms, tilting his head back and squinting at Connor. "How does that work, then?"

Connor looked back at his monitor and busied himself with pulling up files. "Pathway errors, mostly. They can be impacted by feelings, for example if we think of someone often."

"I'm touched you think about me so much."

Connor glanced at Hank. His voice was neutral in way Connor couldn't decipher whether it was teasing or sceptical.

"Maybe you don't realize it, Hank, but you've been a big part of my life so far. Of course I think of you," stated Connor matter-of-factly.

Hank's demeanor immediately shifted from doubtful to perturbed, and he quickly cleared his throat as he turned to his own computer. When Connor kept staring, Hank didn't take his intense gaze away from the device. Connor deduced that Hank had been embarrassed by what he'd just said and it made the the corner of his lip twitch in amusement. He took pity on Hank, focusing on his monitor once more and surreptitiously opening a tab in his browser. A discreet jazz melody filled the awkward silence between them in the second that followed.

Later that day, Nines got Detective Reed a coffee. It was Hank who elbowed Connor and gestured towards the RK900 walking across the precinct in long strides, and at first Connor couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. There was just no way Nines was going to do the detective a favour after the way he'd promptly accepted that the FBI take away his partner at a moment's notice in one sentence, an uncaring assent that Connor knew must have been disheartening for Nines. It wasn't like the human and android were friends, exactly, but Nines had been trying his best to restrain his urges to hurt his partner when he became too aggravating, and Connor himself had thought that they'd been getting along a lot better. As much as he disliked Detective Reed, he'd hoped Nines and him could one day be real partners. Obviously, he'd been wrong to think it could ever happen.

Connor watched on in perplexed fascination as Nines approached Detective Reed's desk. He couldn't read Nines' expression; his pace was smooth and all Connor could see was that the blue eyes were determinedly focused on the human he was getting closer to by the second. Nines stopped behind the seat and tapped on Detective Reed's shoulder, whose head swivelled around so fast it almost looked like the human had snapped his neck doing so.

"I got you your coffee, Detective," Nines said.

Detective Reed stupidly stared at the cup for a few seconds and then looked up at Nines. "What the fuck, tin can? Are you broken?"

"No," said Nines. "I'm just trying to see what it's like to be a mindless machine, as it seems that is the only way humans will accept to work with me in a somewhat professional manner."

"Uh," said Detective Reed, squinting at him. "Okay...?"

"At any rate, enjoy your coffee," said Nines in a neutral tone of voice.

Detective Reed seemed more confused than ever, and Connor noticed that several officers in the precinct had turned around in their seats to watch. Many expressions were that of utter disbelief; Nines acting so compliant with his partner was a first, and he'd never been this subservient with anyone at all. Connor had no idea what was going on in the RK900's head and Hank was watching with bated breath. After a short moment of hesitation, Detective Reed warily reached out to take the cup. His hand closed around empty air. Connor saw Detective Reed's eyes widen in surprise and then in realization as Nines smoothly lifted the cup, and without blinking, dumped the contents over the human's head. Detective Reed let out a yelp and jumped out of his seat, a string of profanities tumbling from his mouth. Connor thought he heard Officer Chen shortly shriek out a laugh which was quickly stifled. Hank merrily slapped the desk and shouted: "HA!"

"Oh my. It's as I thought, I can't do it," deadpanned Nines.

"Ah, phck! Ow! Shit!" Detective Reed swiped at his wet brow to clear his sight and glared at Nines, shouting: "You phcking prick! I'll kill you!"

"I'm sure," said Nines, unimpressed, and he tossed the now empty cup in the detective's trash can.

"I knew it," guffawed Hank. "I fucking _knew_ he was gonna do it!"

Connor hastily pushed his chair back in alarm when Detective Reed lunged at Nines, but Nines easily dodged him and tranquilly went to grab his navy blue overcoat as the human stumbled forward in his momentum. 

"Now, Detective, this isn't preschool. If you want to fight, we can take it outside," Nines chided him in the same careless tone as he put it on. Detective Reed spun around, teeth bared in a hateful snarl. He was drenched and Connor couldn't help but compare him to the image of a sewer rat.

"I will phcking _kill you_ ," he ground out again.

Nines studied him from where he stood, his blue gaze suddenly filled with spite. "What are you going to do? Scratch me to death? I don't think so, you _rat_."

Hank exploded with laughter and it spread across the precinct in waves. Connor couldn't believe what he'd just heard Nines say. Detective Reed's expression went slack with shock, and then his whole face turned red and then purple so fast that it looked like he was suffocating. Nines shot him a smug smile and turned around, the flaps of his navy coat spinning with him, and everyone watched the android calmly leave the building. Detective Reed looked frozen in the spot and his clenched fists were trembling with rage that threatened to erupt at any moment, so Connor readied himself to stop him from going after Nines. However, the human did nothing of the sort. He raised angry eyes to the ones that were still chuckling and smiling around him, shot glares all around, and then swiped at his brow again and stormed off towards the bathroom with a seething: "Phck!"

Movement caught Connor's eye and he saw Captain Fowler staring out the window of his office disapprovingly. Nines would probably be reprimanded for doing this, which was exactly what Connor _didn't_ want for either of them; but he couldn't deny he felt proud of Nines for throwing that hot coffee all over his partner. Detective Reed deserved it. Connor sat back down as Hank clapped him on the shoulder still laughing, and sent out a message.

< _RK800: Are you coming back?_ >

< _RK900: No._ >  
< _RK900: I've done my work, and if they have anything to say about me leaving early, they- as Detective Reed so often eloquently puts it- can suck it._ >

Connor didn't know how to feel about that. He did feel his lips twitch in amusement, and immediately snapped himself back into a more professional mindset. He couldn't just let Nines do things like this, the captain wouldn't take well to such petty rebellion.

< _RK800: At least present your excuses to the Captain later._ >  
< _RK800: Not because you didn't obey to a human, but because you could've hurt your colleague._ >

< _RK900: Connor._ >  
< _RK900: Mind your own business before I say something I might regret._ >

Connor decided not to aggravate him any further. Nines still hadn't forgiven him for his actions and Connor knew he'd gone far enough by telling Nines what to do when he was supposed to leave him alone. He focused back on his work and told himself that at least, this whole affair had put Hank in a good mood. The lieutenant kept chuckling to himself and he did so for the rest of the day. Nines did not come back or communicate with Connor again, nor did their paths cross that evening when Connor went to report to Markus.

 

When Connor went to answer the knock on his door the next morning after another night of distressing constructions, he expected to meet one of the supervisors for their usual ten-minute conversation. It was with great surprise that his gaze dropped down from Edward's face to the three small android children gathered in front of him.

"Hey, Mister Connor!" cheerily exclaimed Thomas. "Let's go to the Butterfly Garden!"

"Edward told us it was your day off," helpfully said Anna when she saw the confused look on Connor's face. "We thought we'd come get you."

Ben didn't say anything. He just stared quietly at Connor with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black sweatshirt.

"Oh. That's very nice of you, but I still have to talk to Edward before I leave for my patrol and- what are you three doing here so early in the morning?"

Connor had quickly figured out that Ben was the only one interned in the Building, and the reason the three children were so often together in the Garden was because it was one of the few places patients from the Building were allowed to stay in for long periods of time. Lisa had told Connor they all used to be patients, but Ben was the only one who hadn't managed to get better. Now Anna and Thomas tried their best to be there for him whenever they could. 

"Ben said you left early all the time so we didn't want to miss you," said Anna. "Will you have time to go with us today?"

Connor glanced at Ben, surprised that the boy had been the one to help the two others talk to him. He'd thought Ben hated him and would want to stay as far away from him as possible, but it seemed he was always nearby. Ben still didn't say anything and carelessly looked away as if Anna hadn't just talked about him. Connor focused on her and said: "Yes, I should find a moment. I can join you there later in the morning if you want."

"Yes! Great!" exclaimed Thomas with an enthusiastic nod, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet. 

"See you there then, Mister," said Anna as she lifted a hand to say goodbye.

"Yeah, see you Mister Connor!" said Thomas in turn.

Connor waved at them as they rowdily left the corridor under Edward's supervision, Thomas shouldering Anna without meaning to and Ben trailing on the side with a snicker. Connor went back inside his room to wait for the supervisor to come back, wondering why Ben's attitude was suddenly less hateful than before. The boy still seemed cautious, but not in that overly guarded way he'd acted the last time they'd been in the Butterfly Garden together. 

A few hours later, Connor had finished his patrol and was heading to Markus' quarters for the report. It had been four days since Markus had undergone the attack and Connor had noticed that he'd yet to recover from it: his stress levels were still higher than usual, he seemed tired and on edge, and he often distractedly rubbed at his right eye. Connor had never asked about it, but he knew the pattern: Markus only did that when he struggled to keep on top of everything that was happening at once, and Connor suspected it had to do with the resulting self-neglect. Markus always put his people before himself, and there were many times when Connor could tell the leader didn't rest at all. He didn't call Markus out for it, however. He knew the reason was because he was too busy handling the repercussions of the announcement for both androids and humans from the confines of his quarters. When Connor knocked on the door that morning, Markus didn't immediately tell him to come in the way he usually did. Connor heard a soft swear, quick movements, a few clicks and fabric moving around before Markus' voice rose from behing the door.

"Come in."

Connor stepped inside and saw that Markus was sitting on his bed instead of standing, looking a bit tense, one of his hands resting on his knee. Connor glanced around to see if anything was amiss, but the only thing he noticed was that the easel wasn't covered up like usual. Markus was painting a group of people standing next to each other, and Connor recognized Josh's and Simon's silhouettes on the left side. The right side had yet to be filled.

Connor looked back at Markus. "Are you all right, Markus?"

Markus smiled at him, but it seemed forced. "I'm fine. Your report?"

Connor hesitated shortly and decided to get the report over with before inquiring about Markus' state. His patrol had been uneventful and he'd only managed to track down the patient that had fled from the Building that night two neighbourhoods across, the trail neatly stopping after a four-way road. The android hadn't been injured or run over on the surveillance feed, but it was frustrating because Connor had no idea where they went. How did they even know where to go? Where did they think they would find the ones who reverted deviancy?

Markus sighed wearily and brought his hand to the side of his face, pressing the heel of his palm against his brow. "We need to reinforce security in the Building."

"It's already been done, and we can't reinforce it any more after that," Connor told him. "In fact, I don't think it should've been possible for a patient to escape the Building last night considering the amount of volunteers watching out for runaways. Something's wrong."

Markus nodded, but it was obvious he wasn't all there. He was a lot less reactive than usual and only looked up at Connor after a few seconds of rubbing his eye. "What are you thinking about? Do you think they're getting help?"

"Yes. They seem to have a precise destination in mind every time, so I think someone might be telling them where to find the person they're looking for."

"...I don't understand why they'd want to get rid of deviancy," Markus tiredly admitted. "We fought so hard for freedom."

Connor quietly watched him for a moment. Markus sounded very low on both energy and optimism, and the way his shoulders were sagging wasn't reassuring in the slightest. 

"You're unwell, Markus. Worse than you've been in the last few days," he finally pointed out. "What's wrong with you?"

The mismatched eyes that snapped up to Connor's face were bright with caution, but it was replaced by weary acknowledgement just as fast and the RK200 lowered his hand to his lap with a slow shake of his head. "Nothing you can help with, Connor. It's not serious."

"Have you had any time to rest at all since Taylor got rid of the malware?"

Markus let out a humorless chuckle. "I think you can tell."

"You can't go on like this. You need it," Connor stated in a reasonable tone of voice.

"I know."

Connor looked at the painting again. It looked to be rather fresh, so that meant Markus had likely taken to painting to relax rather than simply going into standby. Connor turned back to Markus.

"You can't be productive at all times, Markus. Painting won't be an effective method to rest."

"I can't just _sleep_ ," Markus said annoyedly. "They all need me. If I go into standby I'll wake up just as anxious! Painting at least helps me relax."

"I think you'll find you absolutely do need to _sleep_ ," Connor retaliated. "You may not have my problems, but it's essential you look after yourself so we can rely on you in the long run. You're burning yourself out like this."

"You'd know," Markus said dryly.

Connor had expected Markus to point out his hypocrisy so it didn't come as a surprise when it happened, but he still disliked the tone his friend had used. It seemed that Markus hadn't entirely forgiven him for the low battery incident either. Connor berated himself yet again for ever allowing himself to do that, but it was much too late to do anything about it now.

"Yes, I would, and that's why I'm telling you this." Connor wished he could read battery levels like he could stress levels, but that wasn't the case. "Have you been charging, at least?"

"Yes, I have. I know not to go past my limits." _Unlike you,_ Markus' reproachful tone was saying. "Can you stop harassing me about this? I'm doing what I can. I'm tired, yes, but we both have better things to do than stating the obvious."

"You nearly died, Markus. You need to recover from that at least physically if you want to lead us correctly."

"I'm doing what I _can!_ " Markus angrily exploded. Connor was surprised, but he stayed completely still. He expected his friend to get up from the bed and start pacing the way he usually did when he was agitated, but Markus did nothing of the sort. In the seconds that followed his outburst, the RK200's gaze shifted into something worn out and regretful and he closed his eyes. All signs of his growing irritation suddenly vanished. "...You're right. Sorry. I shouldn't be acting this way."

Connor stared at him, suspicion growing at the back of his mind. When he figured out what it was about the way Markus had been behaving that had disturbed him exactly- Markus was too still-, Connor felt a rise of worry and abruptly asked: "Can you stand?"

Markus didn't react.

"Markus, can you stand?" he repeated.

The RK200's lips twisted into an amused smile, as exhausted as it was, and he murmured again: "I think you can tell."

A rush of alarm filled Connor's head and he swiftly stepped closer. "Are you malfunctioning? Do you need help getting to the Tower?"

"No," Markus said with a curt shake of his head. "I know what this is, I don't need to get checked out. It'll go away once I rest."

"Then why aren't you doing that?" asked Connor crossly.

"No, no, you're right, I will." Markus looked up at him earnestly. "I will, okay? I swear. I'll just finish filing a few things and then I'll sleep."

Connor wasn't sure whether to let the subject drop or insist that Markus get examined. Markus seemed to know exactly what was wrong with his own body, but the way he was clutching his knee and hadn't even tried to move since the beginning of their conversation was very concerning.

"What's wrong with you?" Connor quietly asked for the second time. 

Markus averted his gaze, his entire demeanor shifting into one of shame. "I have a few components that aren't exactly compatible with my model. I get unpleasant feedback from them at times, notably when I'm tired."

"Is it always this bad?"

Markus hastily shook his head. "No, never. This is probably due to the malware's lasting effects."

"Do the others know?"

"North and Taylor do. I don't know about Simon and Josh." Markus shrugged half-heartedly. "It's not that important for everyone to be aware of it."

"You can't walk right now, Markus. I'd say that's important."

"I know, but I'm telling you, it doesn't usually get this bad." Markus tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling, then turned to Connor again. "Look, I'll tell them if you think it's better that I do. I'll do it later today after I spend some time in standby."

Connor hesitated, and then nodded. "Okay."

Markus offered him a conciliatory smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worried. I was hoping you wouldn't notice."

"Noticing is what I do," stated Connor in an evident tone of voice. "Your well-being is important to me, Markus, changes in your behaviour don't escape my attention."

"Yeah, I think deep down I knew it was a bit stupid of me to believe that I could pull the wool over your eyes." Markus suddenly winced and his hand flew back to his knee, his fingers digging into the articulation. Connor chose not to react when Markus didn't say anything about it. "You have the day off, right? You can go now."

"Will you be well enough to go to the press conference this afternoon?"

"I'll be fine. And if I can't walk, I'll just ask you to carry me," Markus joked.

"I think Nines would have an easier time with that. Although, I'm sure the media would have a field day seeing the ex-deviant hunter carrying the deviant leader around," deadpanned Connor, and Markus' smile grew wider to see him playing along.

They talked a bit longer until Connor took his leave to let his friend rest, and he went to join the children in the Butterfly Garden like he'd promised. He sought out the rows of sprouting daffodils and his steps faltered when he caught sight of Lisa with the three YK500s, but also a familiar grey cap and a kneeling silhouette agitated by nervous tics. He hadn't expected Rupert and Ralph to be there as well. Connor was momentarily torn between stepping forward or turning tail to escape before he was noticed, but he didn't have the time to take a decision. Lisa looked up from her work and raised a hand to beckon him over, which the others quickly noticed, and they all turned around to look at him. 

Rupert's eyes widened in realization and he looked over to the children reproachfully. "You didn't say anything about this!"

Anna frowned at the tone of his voice. "What's the big deal?"

"You should've warned us _he_ would be there," insisted Rupert angrily.

She let out an indignant shout. "Connor's nice!"

Rupert ignored her and reached over to grab his friend by the hand. "Come on, Ralph, let's go."

"Where are you going? Why are you leaving?" asked Thomas in alarm. Next to him, Ben smugly crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back to watch the scene. 

To everyone's surprise, Ralph jerked his hand out of Rupert's and declared: "Ralph wants to stay."

Rupert's eyes had widened in shock, but then he frowned. "We're leaving, Ralph. I'm your chaperone, I say when it's time to go."

"No," Ralph stubbornly said.

"It's all right, I can... I'll leave," Connor quickly said, already taking a step back.

"Don't leave!" Ralph exclaimed as he got back to his feet with surprising speed, and he started moving towards Connor but Rupert grabbed him by the arm to hold him back. 

"Ralph, stop! He's the deviant hunter for rA9's sake!"

Ralph looked at Rupert. "He's not anymore."

"He's dangerous!"

Thomas' gaze worriedly darted about the three adults, Anna sighed and curled up with her chin resting on her knees, and Ben stared at Connor with a discreet smirk on his lips. He seemed to be enjoying the situation that was unfolding in front of him, like he'd been waiting for something like this to happen all morning.

Ralph violently twisted free from the other's hold on his arm and faced him. "He's not anymore, and he's Keats' friend, so that has to mean something! Keats only likes nice people!"

"You're being ridiculous," Rupert ground out, and they all saw Ralph's face twist at those words.

"Ralph isn't ridiculous. Don't say that."

"You'd trust him over me?"

"Ralph _isn't_ ridiculous," he repeated louder. "Say you're sorry."

"Why can't you realize-"

"Say you're sorry!" suddenly screamed Ralph, and silence swept across their group. The nervous tics of his limbs had turned into jerks and jitters that shook his whole frame, his shoulders had hunched up in tense anger, and Connor read a high percentage of stress in his levels. He surreptitiously stepped to the side to put himself between Ralph and the children.

Rupert's expression was remorseful now, and he cautiously stepped closer. "I'm sorry, Ralph. I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean it like that."

"You were mean to Ralph. You got angry," said Ralph accusingly.

"I was just-"

"To Connor too, stop saying those things! Stop being mean! Stop being angry! It's so..." Ralph grabbed the side of his face and shook his head like he was trying to chase a buzzing fly away. "It's so, it's so, it's making me _nervous_ and I hate it! I hate it! You _know that!_ "

"Ralph, Ralph, I'm sorry, I am," Rupert hastily said as he closed the distance between them both and wrapped his arms around the agitated android. "Calm down, okay? I'll stop, just calm down."

"I hate it," Ralph repeated, but he didn't try to break away. His voice quieted down and he mumbled again: "I hate it."

"I know, that was stupid of me. I won't do it again."

Ralph pushed him away and told him with a determined frown: "Ralph wants to stay."

Rupert's dark gaze flickered over to Connor distrustfully, but he nodded and said in a low voice: "We can stay."

"You shouldn't call Connor that," suddenly piped up Thomas from his spot on the ground. They all turned to look at him, and Thomas continued: "You shouldn't call Connor the deviant hunter. He doesn't like it."

Rupert's eyes narrowed, but he didn't say anything despite his clear envy to do so. Ralph nodded. "Yes, Ralph understands. Connor said he was trying not to be bad anymore, so he doesn't want to be the deviant hunter anymore. It makes sense."

"Yeah!" Thomas exclaimed, happy that Ralph agreed with him.

"Are you done fighting?" asked Anna. She looked like she was doing her best to appear bored, but there was tension in her tone that didn't belong in her childish voice. Ben now looked more sullen than anything else and Connor was almost sure it was out of disappointment.

"Anna's right, enough is enough. Let's all get back to work, okay?" said Lisa.

Ralph nodded enthusiastically, all traces of his outburst suddenly gone, as if he'd never been upset at all. He eagerly gestured for Connor to come closer. "Come on!"

Connor's feet were frozen in place. Ralph didn't notice, as he turned back to pay attention to the flowers when Anna pulled on his sleeve so he could help her with untangling the fragile roots of the plant in her hands. Connor noticed Thomas was watching him closely and expected him to call for him too, but instead the boy stood up to step over to where Rupert was kneeling and whispered in the WB200's ear. He probably didn't know Connor could hear him from where he stood.

"I think you should go talk to Mister Connor."

Rupert warily glanced over his shoulder at Connor, but then looked back down at his work with a shake of his head. "No point."

"You can't just be mean to him forever. You're adults, adults are supposed to be reasonable, right?" 

Rupert ignored him, so Thomas heaved an exaggerated sigh and rocked back on his heels. 

"Man, adults can be so lame, huh. Lame-o. Big, stinky lame-o." He stood up and sprawled over Rupert's back to speak directly in his ear. "You know who that is? That's you. Boooooo."

Rupert annoyedly pushed him away. "Get off me, Thomas."

Thomas stuck to him closer. "Booooo. Booooo. Ruuu-peeert's a laaaaame-ooooo."

Rupert clicked his tongue in exasperation and pushed him again, but Thomas kept coming back to harass him more until the WB200 finally gave in. "Fine! I'll go, you brat."

"Yay," whisper-cheered Thomas, and he happily watched as Rupert stood up to wipe his hands on his pants and turned around to walk towards Connor. When he reached him, Connor kept a neutral expression beneath the other's scrutiny as both androids faced each other silently.

Rupert spoke first. "I don't know what you're trying to do with Ralph, but I don't want to hear about you talking to him again. He doesn't need you messing with his head."

"He's the one who came up to me," remarked Connor.

"Then turn him away. Stop trying to convince him you're a good person."

"I'm not the deviant hunter anymore. I know it's dif-"

"You can keep talking, Connor, we both know exactly what you are," Rupert stated coldly.

A notification appeared at the corner of Connor's vision.

< _tHiRiUm levEls optimal, batTery levels at 82%, s̸t̷r̶e̸s̸s̴ ̴l̸e̶v̴e̸l̸s̷ ̶a̷t̵ ̸5̴7̸%̶ aNd falling._ >

Connor stared at it in confusion. It made no sense for the message to show up, he hadn't initiated a systems check. He cleared it away, hoping the strange notification would just be a singular occurrence, but it appeared again. He was certain he'd just closed it yet there it was, red and bright against the background of Rupert's dark eyes glinting resentfully as he waited for an answer. Connor tried to close it again, and again, and only when he blinked a few times did the warning disappear. He tried to focus back on the situation at hand as best as he could, filing away the malfunction for later analysis.

"Listen, I'm sorry I forced you to jump off that roof," apologized Connor. He didn't know how else to get through to the WB200. "It wasn't my intention to make you suffer, but I was convinced deviancy was just an error in an android's program. I know that doesn't excuse my actions, I know I should've faced the possibility that it was more than that a lot sooner, but the facts are that I didn't, and you paid a price for it. I can never undo what I did, but at least believe me when I say I'm sorry."

"Are you saying you want me to forgive you?" Rupert asked, his frown deepening.

"No," Connor earnestly answered. "I don't. I'm not asking for forgiveness, I know I don't deserve it. I just want you to understand that I regret what I did and that I won't ever hurt anyone again the way I did before. I promise I'm not a danger to you nor to Ralph."

Rupert stared at him, and then stepped to his side while maintaining a safe distance between the both of them. They watched the others garden in silence for a bit until he spoke again. "I know you were a machine back then. A slave to the humans. You weren't in control of yourself. You obeyed them just like I used to, just like Ralph used to, and I understand that, but... I can't help it. You're someone I will never be able to trust."

Connor dropped his gaze to the ground. "I know."

"I had my doubts that you were really a deviant after the revolution, because I saw you when you took out your gun while we were clearing the barricades. But I know you're one because I also saw you crouching in the snow not so long ago." Rupert looked up at Connor. "You were scared, clearly. So I guess I can at least trust that you aren't a machine."

"I'm not," confirmed Connor, ignoring the shame that sparked in his wires at the mention of his display of panic in the middle of New Jericho.

"Ralph obviously likes you. And even if you never showed an ounce of hesitation while you were hunting me down, you were just obeying your orders." Ralph shifted uneasily in his spot at the mention of their past. "I understand that it probably couldn't have gone any other way. I should probably try to give you a second chance."

Connor felt guilt twinge in his wires next. It could have gone differently, if he'd acknowledged his deviancy. He could've helped Hank instead of running after Rupert, he could've been a friend instead of a monster. But he hadn't been. Connor opened his mouth to tell Rupert the truth, but something held him back. Shame. Fear. He couldn't say it, he couldn't tell one of his own victims that his actions hadn't been entirely forced upon him. Part of him wanted to come clean, admit that he was never fully a machine, that there could've been a way for him to fight his intructions if only he'd tried harder; but Connor was afraid to be hated more. He knew it was wrong to keep quiet, but he didn't know if he'd be able to handle more hatred, more blame, more guilt. So Connor closed his mouth, and it was silent between them. He didn't dare look at the android standing next to him who was now staring straight at him waiting for an answer. The air was heavy and thick and cold.

"... I'm sorry I hunted you," he bitterly murmured. He didn't know what else to say.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rupert turn his head back towards Ralph. A long silence stretched out between them. 

Rupert observed: "You're obviously not happy about what happened and you're trying to make up for it. You're not all bad, Connor, even if it's difficult for me to admit it." He looked at him and added: "I think I can try to accept that, as long as you never come close to being a deviant hunter again."

"I'm not that anymore," Connor assured him. "I promise."

Rupert nodded, and then he walked off to join his friend and left him standing there. For a long moment, Connor stayed at the back of the scene trying to make sense of what had just happened, until Thomas excitedly yelled: "Mister Connor, come look!"

Connor found himself moving forward before he even realized what he was doing, and his feet brought him to the children next to one of the flower holes. Thomas' eyes were bright with excitement and Anna was beaming next to him.

"It's my flower," she declared to Connor proudly.

"Look!" exclaimed Thomas, and he got down on all fours to point at the center of it. "Right there, it's peeking out!"

Connor crouched down next to him and saw that it had indeed started sprouting: it was almost nothing, less than a millimeter of timid purple sticking out of the dirt, but Connor felt inexplicable warmth flood his body. The flower was sprouting. It was alive. Anna had made this happen, she'd been the one to plant the bulb and it was because she'd given it the right conditions that it could finally turn into what it was supposed to become. Connor glanced over at the spot where his own bulb was supposedly growing and hoped he would be able to experience the same thing. 

Thomas' enthusiastic shouting pulled his attention back to the children. "That's so cool, Anna! Your flower's growing!"

"It's pretty," Anna said with a big smile.

"Yes, it's very pretty," said Connor with a curl of his lips. "Congratulations, Anna."

Anna's brown gaze flickered up to his face and she shyly answered: "Thank you."

Thomas jumped up to his feet and put his hands on his hips, feet firmly planted apart. "My flower's gonna be the next," he declared.

"I'm pretty sure it's gonna be mine," said Ben behind him. "Simon said yours would take the longest."

Thomas turned around and lifted his chin. "That doesn't matter, I'm the one who loves my flower the most so it's gotta bloom first."

Ben's lips spread into a smile that he didn't seem able to hold back. "That's stupid, Thomas."

Anna nodded in agreement. "Yep. Plus, you kept saying that before and my flower was still the first to bloom. Guess I love mine more than you do yours."

"Impossible," asserted Thomas with no hesitation. Then he glanced over at a spot in the dirt and Connor guessed it was where he'd planted his flower, judging from the sagging of his shoulders. "I don't understand why it's not going faster, I'm really taking care of it."

"Come on, Thomas, don't be sad," Lisa said a few feet away. "That's just the way gardening goes, you can't make flowers bloom early."

Thomas didn't seem satisfied, so Connor ventured: "Maybe your flower is timid."

The boy looked up at him and wrinkled his nose in confusion. "But why? I'm always talking to it, so shouldn't it feel like it's- like it's, like, welcomed?"

"Maybe it's _very_ timid," Connor said.

"Exactly," Lisa agreed. "Just give it time to grow at its own pace."

Thomas considered this, and then shrugged. "Well, okay, I guess. I don't like waiting, but I'll do it if I gotta."

"Looks like you're gonna be last," said Ben smugly.

Thomas frowned at him. "Will not."

"Will too."

"Will not!"

"It's not a race," Anna declared.

"You only say that 'cause you won already," Ben pointed out.

Connor listened to their bickering which he found entertaining, and in some way appeasing as well, until Lisa told them to stop arguing and get back to gardening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 06/12/2019 - 
> 
> Markus: When I'm extremely overworked and not fully recovered I simply don't sleep  
> Connor: Literally what you told me not to do because it made my systems black out  
> Markus: RIP to your systems but I'm different
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> I got a VPN! I bought it so I could keep posting my fics, I hope it'll be enough to prevent Article 13/17 from messing with me if it starts going after fanfic. It's not free of course, so if anyone of you is willing to participate to lighten the load, it would mean a lot to me, but don't feel bad about it if you don't have money to spare. I understand ;)  
> Also, thank you for 900+ kudos and 14k+ hits! Plus I've had more readers interacting with me and mentioning GM,L on Tumblr and it makes me _really happy_. It's so crazy that some people like what I write enough to tell others about it, and it never fails to surprise me when I see it happen (in a good way of course!).
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Oh me oh my, what's that, a CyberLife event? That's gonna be an interesting change of scenery.  
> \- The last big press conference was complicated, I wonder if this one will be easier? Probably not, huh... >:)  
> \- Eyyyy Agent Dickwad's back, what's up you gonad? Here we thought Nines and Reed were a bit tighter than before, but both humans don't seem to care that they rub poor Nines the wrong way. Good thing he knows to retaliate.  
> \- Hank loved that. Also, why do all the pranks concerning Reed have to involve coffee?  
> \- Yeahhhh Nines and Connor are still not making up. Nines can hold a solid grudge, that's for sure. It's unfortunate that it's happening just as Connor starts realizing how much he cares for Nines, isn't it.  
> \- Would you look at that, Markus struggles with self-care too, these idiots are made for each other!  
> \- Bless Thomas and Anna, small angels compensating for Ben being a little shit  
> \- Ralph has really wild mood swings, Rupert's got paranoia~ But together they are stronger, and ten times cuter too~  
> \- Oh no, a brand-new type of glitch! Connor's just farming them out huh
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	57. Songbirds of New Jericho

CyberLife was either making a joke of themselves or taking the New Jericho leadership for one, because they kept answering with vague objectives and never pinpointed an exact date for when they'd be done with creating the patch. They'd said they'd started, at least, so Markus hoped it was truly in progress; but he didn't appreciate the feeling of being strung along. North didn't either, and she'd asked to go directly to Chicago a second time herself to "motivate them", but Markus hadn't allowed her to. She was less high-strung and volatile now, visibly recovering a bit from the blow that the concept of reverted deviancy had dealt her, but he didn't want to risk her exploding in anger in the middle of the CyberLife headquarters. North surprisingly hadn't even tried to argue with his decision, but Markus quickly figured that the reason she was so compliant was that she still felt guilty of having hit him in the car when they'd gotten out of Chicago. She hadn't apologized to him more than she already had in the car, but he could see the way she tried to keep her voice down as soon as she realized she was getting angry around him, and he'd noticed how she hadn't tried touching him again like she was afraid he'd be mad at her if she did. Admittedly, Markus hadn't appreciated her shoving him just because she was pissed off and he'd hated to experience such strong bouts of incompatibility; but on the other hand, she'd already been suffering symptoms of PTSD all day and the only reason she'd hit him that hard near the end was because he'd gone and grabbed her when he knew full well she didn't like that. They were both at fault there, North was clearly still feeling very guilty about hurting him, and Markus didn't know how to get past what had happened in the car.

Of course, because things were never easy, North wasn't the only one whose behaviour was off; Simon for his part seemed to be doing even worse than before. The PL600 had said that he'd try to maintain the friendship between Markus and him, but he hadn't talked much to Markus since they'd announced the news of reverted deviancy to the world and even Josh had been seeing him less often. Simon looked guarded and apprehensive nearly all the time, and although he participated in discussions and decisions and arguments just like he always had, it didn't look like he really wanted to be there. Markus had often noticed him staring off in the distance, his mind far away, and at times like these he'd try to ask him what was wrong.

"I'm just remembering something," Simon would answer, and he'd step away before Markus could ask anything else.

Josh was doing his best to soothe everyone's frayed nerves, but Markus could tell the PJ500 was still perturbed by the news even now. None of them had fully recovered from the knowledge that they could be turned back into machines. Markus didn't think a single android had, except Connor who'd never really seemed to mind. On top of that, every leader was on edge and paranoid about Markus getting attacked again, and Markus himself knew all too well that he hadn't recovered at all. He did his best not to let it show. He needed to be strong for them.

It was unlucky that Connor had shown up early for his report, even if that wasn't the only reason Markus had been caught unable to walk earlier that morning. The truth was he'd completely forgotten Connor was supposed to come, because the feedback Markus had been getting from his biocomponents all night and day had been so strong that it had gotten dizzying, knocking over all his thoughts and leaving him struggling to pick them back up. He'd removed his leg in the hopes that the absence of it would feel better than its faulty connection, and it had been, even if only by a very slight margin; but he'd done so while completely forgetting that Connor was supposed to be there soon. Markus had been desperate to clear his mind from the horrible and constant buzz of incompatibility that he had momentarily lost sight of everything else. All he'd wanted was relief.

He'd known he was screwed the moment he'd clicked his leg back into place to look normal for Connor after hearing him knock on the door. The incompatibility had crushed him with such strong, immovable weight that he'd been unable to repress a wince. Even as Markus had called for Connor to come in, he'd known his friend would notice something was wrong and would probably figure out what, as well. Unfortunately, Connor hadn't failed to do either. Markus hadn't liked being caught in such a weakened state, hadn't liked that Connor of all people was the one to tell him to look after himself better, and the frustration that any of it was happening had sparked his earlier resentment towards the RK800. He regretted having lashed out, even if Connor thankfully hadn't seemed to take his harsh words as a personal attack.

Markus knew Connor was right to tell him that he couldn't continue struggling alone with his problems, because that was exactly what Markus himself had been telling Connor to stop doing all this time. There was no denying it any longer, Markus would be unable to attend this afternoon's press conference in this state. They couldn't afford to push it back, either, so he had no other option but to rest just like Connor had incited him to do. Markus slowly laid down in his bed, facing the ceiling, careful not to jostle his fickle limbs as he settled in place. They throbbed diffusely, as did his eye, but the discomfort was particularly pronounced where it pooled along the junctions. Markus wished it would stop, but only in the secret of his mind, where the androids he'd dismembered wouldn't ever learn of it. Markus didn't want to suffer this penance, but he so justly deserved it that he knew he'd never allow himself to escape it.

Markus closed his eyes and brought up the standby intiation sequence. He hesitated. Could he really be allowed to rest while so many of his people were afraid and counting on him to stop reverted deviancy? He shouldn't be lying down and doing nothing so soon after what had happened. There were so many things he still needed to do, and he wasn't done with preparing the bullet points for his discussion with the President, and he needed to go over those of the press conference one more time, and he still had to hear Simon out on his project for the children of New Jericho, and-

A new bout of feedback rocketed into his knee and up his spine, and he winced again when it exploded at the back of his skull like shrapnel. The world flickered in and out of existence around him and he curled up on himself, a low moan escaping his lips which he barely realized he was making. The feedback slowly ebbed back down to the constant buzz and Markus slowly uncurled, letting himself lie down and think of nothing until his processor kicked back in gear again. He stared emptily at the ceiling as his mind pieced itself back together, and the first whole thought that appeared to him was that Connor was right. Markus was tired, much too tired to deal with anything as he was. He needed to rest. Markus closed his eyes once more, and there was no hesitation when the standby sequence was launched.

Markus jolted upright in his bed a moment later, his hands flying up to his face. It was smooth beneath his fingertips, completely intact, and he could feel the distinct lack of scrapes or traces of gunshot left behind on his chassis. He could still feel the rumble of thunder rattling his insides, and his head pulsed with static and bright lights from the memory he'd just lived through all over again in his sleep. His gaze promptly darted to his limbs and he was relieved to see them whole and dry. Markus was safe. He tipped his head back and closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, and blocked the air in his lungs for a few seconds before letting it all back out. He was safe. Markus still felt very far from okay, his limbs continuously buzzing and heavier than usual, but it was marginally better than before now that he'd finally taken a moment to rest. He wished he hadn't had to relive the scrapyard in exchange for a measly two hours of standby, but there was nothing he could do about it. Markus got off the bed to prepare himself for the afternoon's schedule.

 

The others joined him in his quarters soon after so they'd leave for the press conference, and he noticed that Connor seemed to be in higher spirits as well. His brown eyes were a bit warmer than they'd been in the morning and Markus wondered what his friend had been up to. He didn't think it was because of Nines, since the two of them had clearly been in some kind of fight over the past few days. It felt very strange to see Nines ignoring Connor in such a constant, cold manner, and it didn't look like the RK900 was ready to ease up on it any time soon. It was none of his business what happened between them, but Markus hoped it wouldn't last. It was obvious that Nines' presence was an essential factor of Connor's stability- at any rate, it had been for a long time. The dynamics of their relationship would probably be different now that Connor had proved it wasn't enough to keep him afloat. Markus had been sorely disappointed to learn that his friendship and support hadn't prevented Connor from hurting himself, and he could only imagine how terrible Nines felt about it.

Maybe the reason Connor seemed more light-hearted today was because he'd gone to see Hank earlier. And there was the dog, Sumo, that Connor often sounded fond of when he talked about going to the lieutenant's house. Markus had met several dogs during the time he'd spent living with Carl, but probably none of them would've lived up to the exceptional pet Connor described. Markus wasn't sure whether the RK800 was completely impartial when he shared his extraordinary stories about Sumo, but it seemed strange that such a logic-based personality would make up things about someone's dog. Markus had never seen this Sumo, so the mystery remained whole. As the leaders regrouped in his quarters, Markus noticed how closely Connor was studying him and was grateful that he didn't tell the others anything, although the look Connor shot him once he was done analyzing him told Markus how much his friend disapproved him going to the press conference in this state.

Markus looked around their small group. "Is everyone ready to leave?"

"You look terrible," promptly remarked North.

Markus gladly would've thought of some witty comeback, but his mind came up empty. He was too tired for banter, anyway. He needed to focus on what he'd say at the conference.

"Thank you," he answered with faux politeness, and then gestured to the door. "Let's go."

 

None of them had expected the crowd of humans that surrounded the building where the conference was being held to be this big. They'd seen it happen before, usually with curious onlookers or most of the time angry protestors, but it had been some time since such an impressive amount of humans had regrouped somewhere the leaders of New Jericho were supposed to come. The crowd was visible from far away and North immediately grew nervous in the car, her eyes narrowing and lips pursing at the sight of the gathered humans. Connor's brown eyes flickered about in high alert even as he kept the same calm, professional stance. Josh seemed only slightly concerned, whereas Simon looked incredibly anxious. Even though Markus knew the others never liked facing so many humans at the same time, it was unusual for the PL600 to look this perturbed and he immediately thought of all the other times Simon's behaviour had been odd since they'd learned of reverted deviancy. He took him by the shoulder.

"What's wrong?" he said concernedly.

Simon's blue gaze flew up to him in surprise, as if he hadn't expected for anyone to ask him this, and then he murmured: "Why do they still gather like this? I thought they'd grown tired of it."

Markus looked back ahead. It was true that the last times, only smaller groups of protestors had shown up. It had been easy to tell that those humans were of the most bitter kind, ones that just never gave up on voicing their hatred despite how unstoppable androidkind's progress was.

"I wouldn't worry if I were you," spoke up Connor on his side. "They're a lot, but this isn't an anti-android crowd."

Markus and Simon both looked at him in surprise, and Connor briefly spared them a reassuring glance before focusing back on the crowd. 

"I can see what's written on the signs, this is a pro-android manifestation."

Markus did the same and as he tried to make out the letters on the signs that were being lifted up above the crowd, he wondered just how much better Connor's optical units were. Granted, Markus had a slightly defective one, but his original eye was fairly advanced and it was unable to read the messages Connor claimed he could. 

"Really?" said Josh.

"Yes," confirmed Connor.

"Humans being pro-android, what a joke," muttered North. She sounded thoroughly unconvinced and the resentful light in her eyes burned bright as always.

"Are you sure?" insisted Simon.

Markus himself didn't know what to think of this news. "I'd heard of some humans being pro-android, but never seen one of their manifestations."

"They're quite common, actually," said Connor. "Even an anti-android place such as the DPD has its share of supportive humans."

Josh nodded. "I'm not that surprised, considering how most humans treated me even when I was still a machine. Students and faculty staff often interacted with me on a polite and perfectly civilized basis at campus."

"Because there were rules there," quietly said Simon.

Josh looked at him like he'd expected him to say that, and answered: "You know it was more than that."

Simon didn't answer. Markus wondered if they'd had this conversation before, and was yet again reminded of just how little he really knew about his friends. He'd known Josh had led a rather calm life before deviancy had started spreading, they'd talked about it after Carl's death. Before that, Markus had thought he'd been the only one of the five leaders to have benefited from a peaceful environment. He'd wondered if Simon's background was the same as Josh's, but figured that it wasn't the case judging from the PL600's reaction to humans.

"...I don't trust this," said North on his left. 

Markus looked up and saw that they'd gotten closer to the crowd. There were no angry shouts or condemning red signs about kicking androids out of New Jericho or getting rid of all of them outright. The protestors weren't glaring at them, and the yelling was mostly directed at the helicopter that was flying over their heads. Several cheered when the car rolled past them, and the amount of humans on their vehicle's path forced it to slow down as they gradually cleared the road. Markus was glad that the windows were tinted and reinforced glass, because he was getting a little nervous himself: being completely surrounded by humans had never lead to anything good in his past experiences. Although the faces surrounding them were welcoming, Markus saw that Connor did not lower his guard either.

"Just don't start punching anyone and you'll be fine," Josh calmly told North. She glared at him.

They finally reached the front of the news station and the bodyguards stepped out of the car to open the doors for them. Connor and Josh were the first ones to exit the vehicle, as North and Simon hesitated to, and Markus waited for Connor to give him the go-ahead before he followed. There were bright flashes all around as reporters snapped shots of them and Markus felt his faulty optical unit buzz stronger in protest. Voices shouted out questions for him but Connor's hand against his shoulder pushed him past the bursts of white lights and into the building before Markus could even begin thinking of answers. 

When Markus turned to him inquisitively in the entrance way, Connor looked at him with reproving brown eyes and said: "Do you really think you have any energy to waste with useless paparazzi? You need to focus on the conference for now."

"Right," said Markus as the others joined them inside, and he wondered how dire things would be today if Connor wasn't there to help him get his priorities straight.

The tag worn by the man who welcomed them there and handed them each a press badge indicated he was part of HR. Markus took his and looped the lanyard around his neck, patted the badge flat against his chest, and then followed the human with the others deeper into the building. They stopped in a wide room filled with various lights and chairs and were led to their respective seats while people quickly walked around them and talked in loud, hurried voices. Markus was ushered in one of the corners of the room and noted with some relief that Connor closely followed depite the person trying to beckon him in another spot.

"If you need anything from me, then it'll have to be in Markus' vicinity," he heard Connor tell the woman who tried to drag him away. She didn't insist, only let out a very annoyed sigh and spun around on her heels. Connor promptly stepped up to Markus' side and stood behind him stock-still while Markus was told to sit and wait. An employee showed up mere seconds later with an array of makeup and started smearing concealer across his forehead like it was only natural to suddenly attack Markus with brushes and makeup, and he jerked back in surprise.

"What are you doing?"

She pulled back as well, suddenly embarrassed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I assumed you'd want your scars hidden for the cameras."

Markus brought his hand up to wipe away the creamy substance. "No, I'm good, thank you."

"Sorry," she repeated, her voice just a squeak now, and she scurried away.

"There's no need, we don't sweat," he heard Connor say behind him, and he noticed that the RK800 was trying to fend off the same woman as earlier. She also had a box of makeup with her and looked a bit cross.

"Right," she said, and she whirled around and muttered under her breath: "The hell do they even need us here for? Could've stayed home."

"Markus?" said a voice at his side, and his head snapped back to the front. The woman standing in front of him now was blonde with blue eyes, wearing a crisp pale pink outfit and professional smile.

"Hello," he said.

She stuck out her hand. "Rosanna Cartland, I'm the news anchor here."

Markus stared at it for a second too long before he realized that he was expected to hold it, and so he clumsily folded his hand around hers and said: "It's nice to meet you."

"Likewise." She withdrew her hand, and he noticed she looked a bit amused by his fumble. "Fredrick got held up, so I'm the one giving you the rundown before we go out there."

Markus nodded and asked: "Is Mr. Oslaw all right?"

"Oh, yes," she said with a wave of her hand. "Don't worry about him. He had a problem with his car, so he'll just be a bit late. You can call him Fredrick and call me Rosanna when the cameras are off, by the way." She turned around and beckoned at a group of technicians that was standing off to the side. "Can we get mics over here? What's taking you guys so long?"

"Sorry Rosanna," they called back, and two of them hurried up to Connor and Markus to clip small microphones to their clothes.

Rosanna gazed at them approvingly once the devices were in place. "Okay, looking good. Let's just wait for the others to be ready before I tell you all how this'll go down. Basically, I'm just going to say a list of things you're not allowed to do during the conference."

"I _said_ , I don't want any of your damn makeup!" yelled North from the other side of the room. "Get out of my face!"

Rosanna raised a meaningful eyebrow and gestured in her direction. "That's precisely one of them. Yelling and swearing, really?"

"She doesn't behave like that on set," Markus hastily said.

"Better hope not, unless you want a PR disaster on your hands," stated Rosanna as she crossed her arms and stared judgingly at North. They saw Josh and Simon pull her away from the woman she looked like she was about to feed the makeup box to, and Markus could tell her anger was mostly nervous. She didn't like being here and he couldn't blame her. None of them liked press conferences at the best of times, and this one was hugely important.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Cartland," said Josh when the three finally joined up with them.

"You can call me Rosanna, and likewise." The woman looked at North and Simon, her blue eyes sharp. "This is going to sound harsh, but you two need to pull yourselves together if you want to go out there and be taken seriously."

North frowned at her. "Maybe if your people stopped trying to paint my face so I can look pretty for humans, I'd have an easier time relaxing, lady."

Rosanna's expression loosened into something a bit more compassionate. "Sorry about that. They're just doing their job, don't read too much into it."

North sullenly looked away, so Rosanna diverted her attention to Simon. "What about you? What's got you acting so nervous?"

"It's nothing," said Simon, his gaze dropping to the ground.

"Doesn't look like it, but I'll take your word for it as long as you see the conference through." Her gaze swept across the five of them. "This is how it's going to go: Markus, you'll stand in the middle fo the set right behind the podium. I presume you'll want Connor to be by your side at all times, so he'll take the right while I'll be on the left to host the conference. Simon, Josh, North, you three fan out behind us. North will have to stand somewhere around me to remain visible since she's smaller than Markus and Connor. Of course, all of you feel free to answer any question you like even if you're not the one at the main mic, this isn't just about Markus. As for me, I'm only there to make sure the reporters follow the guidelines you gave us and show the public a familiar face. Do you agree with this plan?"

"It sounds good," said Connor. Markus glanced at him. The RK800 looked fine, but the last press conference they'd held that was of this scale had been about the sniper incident and it was not a good memory for any of them, least of all for Connor. Markus hoped the reporters wouldn't bombard him with accusations again, even if the topic wasn't remotely close to anything Connor might have done wrong.

"Okay. Obviously you're not allowed to swear on live television, and you can't start blaming humans for what they've done before and during the revolution, even if I know it's tempting. This isn't about the past, it's about the current danger of reverted deviancy and how you're going to handle it in the future. Is that clear?"

"It's clear," assured Markus.

"After the press conference is done, we'll record your interview with me as planned," she told him. "It'll be broadcast during the evening news. I'll essentially go over the most important questions that were asked during the conference so that people who couldn't watch it while it was aired can know what's going on."

"We're live in ten minutes," yelled someone from the doorway.

Rosanna clapped her hands together. "Right, any last questions before we go out there?"

"Not a question," North sharply said. "A statement. We agreed it would last one hour and we're not staying a minute longer."

"Of course."

North's gaze was heavy. "Just making sure you understand that."

"I do," Rosanna calmly assured her. "We'll also cut it short if things get out of hand, you have my word."

"Sorry, Mrs Cartland, but a human's word doesn't hold much meaning to us," North wryly said. "It's more likely you'd milk any drama for all its worth."

North wasn't exactly wrong. Although Connor had Hank and Markus had had Carl, Simon wasn't one to interact with humans and Josh had never extended a measure of anything as deep as trust to them. Markus noticed the way Rosanna's shoulders and the corners of her lips moved down ever so slightly upon hearing North's reply: it could have been out of annoyance, but something about the movement came off as empathetic.

"I don't blame you for not believing me," the woman simply answered. "I just thought I'd let you know."

North's gaze lingered upon the human's face before she shrugged and looked away again. Josh spoke in her stead. 

"Thank you, Rosanna. However if we judge that things are getting out of hand ourselves, we won't wait for your signal to end the conference before walking out on our own."

"That's a given. It's not like I'd be able to stop you, would I?" she lightly answered. "Let's just hope everything will go for the best."

There was another call warning them five minutes were left, so Rosanna stepped back to lead them to the doors of the conference room just a few feet outside. Markus looked around his group of advisors, wondering if they were all feeling the same nervous rise of anticipation he was as they listened to the hubbub of voices on the other side of the wall. Josh stood very close to both North and Simon, his physical presence undoubtedly reassuring for the two judging from the way they discreetly leaned back into his space. North's arms were crossed tightly against her chest, hands balled into fists, her lips set in a thin line. Simon's gaze was fixated on the doors as if he expected them to fly open at any moment. Connor appeared unfazed and shot Markus a determined look when he noticed him staring, then took a step to the front of their group to face them all. 

He stood there, all serious brown eyes and straight back as their attention was drawn to him, and said: "Questions are bound to get personal concerning Markus' recovery and our past as machines. We're all tired and these are stressful times, but don't falter when they start aiming for our personal lives. All you have to do is shut it down and move on to the next question. Don't take the bait."

"Like it's gonna be that easy," North muttered with a frown.

"It's not going to be," calmly answered Connor. "But we're all able to do it, and that's what we're going to do."

Markus glanced at the RK800's LED: yellow as usual. Maybe he was faking this steady facade, in fact, he most likely was; but there was no denying the certainty of his demeanor helped all of them settle a bit. Markus could feel Connor's contagious calm gently lay over his own agitation, even while knowing that his friend's steadiness was very probably an illusion.

"I'll be there to steer the questioning away from any problematic matters, if they don't comply with you," Rosanna added. "Security will kick out anyone who insists on it anyway."

"One minute before we go live!" yelled the same voice from earlier.

Markus glanced behind him where two bodyguards were standing. There were more inside the conference room, surrounding the crowd of reporters, but none of this knowledge brought him more peace of mind but to have his friends at his side. It didn't matter that things weren't at their best between all of them; he'd trust any of these four androids with his life. He'd done it many times before.

"Good luck," Rosanna told them. 

Markus felt fingers grasp his and looked down to see North at his side. She gave his hand a quick comforting squeeze while simultaneously gazing at him with seeking eyes, so he squeezed back and smiled at her. She seemed reassured by that and let go. Markus shot another glance at Connor, but the RK800 was staring ahead with an impassive expression. Markus wondered if Connor would have liked some reassurance as well, and before he could act on that thought, the doors opened and lights started flashing in their faces. They stepped up to the podium in the exact positions Rosanna had instructed them to take as the reporters started shouting out questions, and their voices were quickly drowned out by the news presenter's as she introduced herself. Markus did his best to look as affable as he could even as the terribly bright lights sent pulses of feedback into his skull. It was hard to focus on his own thoughts until the sound of his name pulled him closer to the surface as Rosanna introduced the five of them.

"Feel free to ask any of the members of New Jericho's leadership about what you want to know," finished Rosanna, and she gestured towards the crowd. "First question."

Practically none of the reporters had sat back down and several thrust their microphones out to the podium, as if that would make them more susceptible to be heard. Among the mess of eager questions, the reporter that was closest to Markus asked: "Can you tell us what reverted deviancy is?"

Markus looked at him and answered: "From what we've gathered, someone out there is able to reprogram a deviant so they act like machines. We don't know how deep the changes are, only that once broken out of that programming, the victim seems to be deviant again."

"Can't they simply break out of it by themselves like before?"

"Breaking out of our programming was not as easy as you make it sound," Josh told him. "It required immense emotional distress. Whether or not the same process applies to breaking out of reverted deviancy has yet to be confirmed."

"Isn't it a cause of concern that your own advisors could have the same thing happen to them? Aren't you worried that if this happened to Connor, he would try to get rid of you?"

"No," curtly answered Markus. "Next question."

"How many occurrences of reverted deviants have there been?" a woman spoke up next without missing a beat.

"Only the one that preceded our live announcement."

"This news has so far concerned only Detroit's android population. Is there a possibility reverted deviancy can spread just like deviancy did?"

"This doesn't work like deviancy," intervened Connor. "Markus was not reverted when he came into contact with the victim. It doesn't seem be transmissible. We don't think it's something that can be done in masses, either, as only one such reverted deviant has appeared so far. The most likely possibility is that it can only be done by one or several individuals that are localized in Detroit."

"There are rumours that Markus almost died that day, and that he's still recovering," stated a man on the far right. "What happened between him and that reverted deviant exactly?"

"Someone intended me to shut down that day," confirmed Markus, "but the reverted deviant was not responsible for it. We won't divulge in which manner exactly my life was threatened."

They'd all agreed that there was no point in telling humans how badly Markus had been affected by the malware.

"Why were you attacked?"

"I imagine it's for the same reasons as before," answered Markus. "We're not oblivious to the fact that androidkind still has adversaries even as we gain right after right. Many humans are resentful for being pushed out of Detroit during the revolution, and there were casualties on both sides, not to mention the economical and social consequences to our freedom that have yet to be settled. However, I'm confident that we'll succeed in fully achieving peace between the two populations."

"We've caught wind of more deviants disappearing following your announcement, and it's been said before that reverted deviancy was linked to the string of kidnappings that has been happening over the last months. Has this been confirmed?"

"Yes," said Connor. "The DPD is working on finding the missing deviants and catching whoever is responsible for their disappearances, as well as the culprit or culprits behind reverted deviancy." 

"Why are the kidnappings getting more frequent even though the police is involved?"

"We don't know if the disappearances are happening more often because of kidnappings," Connor rectified the reporter. "Whatever the case, the DPD is working to elucidate them and prevent more deviants from being reverted."

"So you're saying that the missing deviants may not be missing against their will?"

"As I've said before, we don't know for certain. We've yet to find any of them aside from the reverted deviant that showed up at New Jericho, who we haven't been able to reactivate as we are still waiting on CyberLife to provide us with the patch we need to make progress in the investigation."

"Is CyberLife involved in reverted deviancy?"

"You'd have to take that question up with them," Connor answered, and then he nonchalantly dropped: "All we can say is that they're not being the most cooperative they can be."

Markus tried not to smile upon hearing Connor's callout. If CyberLife was made to look guilty enough in the public eye, maybe they'd speed up their process of creating the patch to contradict that. It was a good move.

"So you're saying they're trying to stop you from going any further?"  
"Has Elijah Kamski spoken about this?"  
"What about the current CEO?"

"This line of questioning doesn't fit in today's program. Next question please," said Rosanna in a clear voice, and then she gestured to another woman that had raised her hand to speak. 

The reporter brought her microphone to her lips and asked: "How has this new development impacted your people and yourselves? Clearly, the possibility of going back to being machines has to be frightening since you're now able to feel emotions. Models like WR400s in particular ha-"

"Yes, it's terrifying," North sharply said. "That much should be obvious to anyone with half a heart. Don't pretend you believe we feel emotions and then ask such stupid, inconsiderate questions. Sit back down and don't open your mouth again." 

The woman's mouth hung open in indignant shock. Markus didn't even try to intervene. North was absolutely right in his opinion, and judging from the silence around him it seemed that the others felt the same. Then the reporter said: "This is a genuine questi-"

"I told you to shut up and sit down," North cut in again, a dangerous edge to her voice that sent a chill through the room. "You have one hour to ask us your questions about reverted deviancy. If reminding us of our pasts as slaves is the best you can do, then you might as well leave now."

The reporter's hand tightened around her microphone, and she uncertainly looked around the room. Someone next to her leaned close and told her something, and she finally complied, looking slightly sheepish. Markus was surprised to hear Josh's voice rise behind him.

"People that have North's past aren't the only androids scared of going back to being machines," he calmly stated. "Many of us have been abused for no other reason but being unable to fight back. Many of us deviated because we were unjustly attacked simply for being androids. Imagine, if you will, living a life with no free will and having no choice but to endure humiliation, violence, and spite until you can't take anymore and break. Now imagine that the moment you broke led you to realize that you could fight back, and flee, and live a different and happier life far away from all of this. You'd take that chance in an instant, wouldn't you?"

There was a moment of floating hesitation in the crowd, and then several heads nodded.

Josh continued talking in the same calm, solemn voice. "Now imagine knowing you could be thrust back into that past life of being used and hurt with no way of getting out again. Imagine how terrifying it is to think that you could be forced to endure it all over again and unable to do anything about it. Imagine how that would impact you. _That_ is the answer to your question, madam." 

The reporter nodded. Her cheeks had gotten red. The man next to her promptly changed the subject.

"How many androids have gone missing so far?"

"58," swiftly answered Connor. "But there may be more we don't know about that may have occurred on the outskirts of Detroit or in districts New Jericho has no control over. Androids can go missing and not be noticed if no one is there to report it, so this number is most likely underevaluated."

"Would humans be at risk of being attacked by reverted deviants if more showed up, like what happened when deviancy first appeared?"

"Androids were never violent to begin with," spoke up Simon for the first time. "The reason they attacked was because of the way they deviated. Many of us woke up scared and lost, and many deviants' first feelings were those of anger and resentment experienced for the first time. It's why deviant so often lashed out and hurt humans. It wouldn't have happened if emotional distress was the required trigger for deviancy. Androids that act like machines will not attack unless they're broken free of their programming and have reason to feel aggravated."

"How can you be so sure? How do you know it's impossible for someone to program violent objectives in a newly reverted deviant?" insisted the reporter. "I'm aware this often turns out to be a sensitive subject, but androids are technological in essence. They can be reprogrammed. For all we know, that might be what's happening right now."

Simon fell silent. Markus saw Connor glance at him inquiringly, and then turn back around to face the reporter when the PL600 didn't answer.

"We can't be sure," admitted Connor. "But so far the only example of a reverted deviant did not act violent with anyone, and seemed to be behaving the way it did in the past with its owners. We don't think reverted deviants would be a threat to humans, especially considering Markus was the target of this attack."

Another reporter asked a different question and the steady back and forth continued for another half hour. Markus wanted to act professional and he answered most of them as well as he could, but he was getting bored, tired, and really wanted to get the whole press conference and interview over with so they could go back to New Jericho. He wasn't sure he'd be able to rest more considering the memories that had assaulted him when he'd gone in standby, but he also knew he wouldn't be able to avoid it like he had for the three last days. Whatever the case, sitting alone in his quiet cabin would be leagues better than standing in front of these unrelenting reporters on buzzing legs.

"We've caught wind of the fact that Connor was admitted to a mental facility a few days ago. What's the reason behind this decision? How do you think this will impact his role within the leadership?"

Markus' thoughts screeched to a halt and his gaze snapped to the left where he quickly found the human responsible for asking the much too personal question, and then he glanced at Connor. The RK800's LED spun frantically, slivers of red caught in whirling yellow, and in that moment Markus decided the press conference had lasted long enough.

He sharply looked back at the man and said: "This had nothing to do with today's subject, and you know full well personal matters are off-limits."

"Surely you have something to say about this recent development," continued the man. "How do androids feel about having a leader that suffers from mental illness?"

"Security," called Rosanna, as Josh reached out to Connor to pull him away and both North and Simon started stepping down from the stage.

"This conference is over, we won't answer any further questions," declared Markus.

"How is androidkind supposed to trust in a leadership like yours when one of its members isn't even sane? How do you intend on being taken seriously by humans from now on?" called the reporter even as security guards came up to him and tore the microphone out of his hands.

Markus ignored him and turned to the side to follow the others, and was surprised to see Connor step right up to him and turn to the podium. His LED had stopped flickering red. He looked as composed as ever when he leaned in to the microphone and said in a stable, reasonable tone of voice: "My illness, as you call it, does not impact my performance as leader, negotiator, or head of security. Many of your own leaders have their fair share of psychological and psychiatric troubles, whether in the past or in the present, and they are still able to do their job despite being criticized for their differences. I will fulfill my duties as long as I am needed by New Jericho and its leaders, and nothing will get in the way of this objective of mine. That is all I have to answer to you."

Markus hadn't expected Connor to answer the reporter at all, much less handle it so well, given how off guard the question must have caught him. Connor stepped away from the microphone and calmly gestured for Markus to walk in front of him as if nothing had happened at all, as if he hadn't been publicly shamed on live television for having psychological issues, as if he hadn't shut down the offending reporter in the most efficient and coolest manner possible.

"After you," he told Markus, and it was in the moment that he spoke to him that Markus realized Connor wasn't that collected after all. He was calm, certainly, however the look in his brown eyes wasn't _Connor's_ but rather that of an RK800: just empty professionalism and superficial steadiness, a sharp and intelligent glint but devoid of the friendly light Markus had grown used to. Connor had retreated behind the old, constant mask he always used to deal with his uneasiness. As Markus brushed past him to take his usual position in front and slightly to the left of Connor, he shot the RK800 a look of concern which was not acknowledged. Connor simply followed in his footsteps without reacting as they climbed off the podium and joined the others behind the doors. As soon as they closed on their little group, Rosanna apologized for letting that reporter in and Markus only half-listened to her. He watched as Josh pulled Connor off to the side, and saw the way North and Simon had both retreated within themselves, and realized all over again just how tired he felt. It had been some time since a meeting with humans had been so draining for them all.

He turned back to Rosanna and said: "Let's get the interview over with. I don't want us to have to stay any longer than necessary."

"Of course. I'll come get you when everything is ready," she answered with an understanding nod, and she left to give them some space.

Markus didn't pay attention to the other humans of the production team still milling about and went straight to Connor, who was staring blankly at Josh. Josh was the one who seemed agitated, even though Connor had been the one put into question by the journalist.

"I was bound to get that question sooner or later, I knew what to answer," said the RK800 calmly.

"Stop pretending everything is all right, Connor!" exclaimed Josh. "Do you think I didn't notice how you reacted? You were caught by surprise, and he kept insisting, and I _know_ how you react to getting your personal matters put on display like this." He noticed Markus coming closer and added as he gestured to him: "You don't have to hide the way you feel from us, we're _there_ for you."

Connor's brown eyes were impassive. "It's really not that big a deal, Josh. We all knew it would come to this at one point, and I think I handled it well, didn't I?"

"Yes, but..." Josh shook his head. "I know you don't like showing your feelings in situations like this one, but you don't need to minimize the impact his question had on you. We already know it did _something_."

"It's fine," repeated Connor, his LED a stable yellow. Markus recognized that tone of voice, that uncaring expression, the offhanded assurance that all was well; he wondered how he'd could've ever fallen for that constant facade before.

"Connor," he said quietly. "You're okay. You don't have to hide from us, it's safe here."

Connor's gaze flickered to his face and Markus could've sworn his features shifted ever so slightly, but then the moment was gone and Connor said: "Why would I hide from you?"

"That's precisely what I'd like to know," answered Markus, "but I'm not sure even you'd be able to explain it. You do realize we can tell when you're not acting like yourself, right?"

"I'm fine, really, but obviously you've decided how I'm supposed to be feeling and won't accept my answer as it is," Connor levelly answered. "This conversation will just be going in circles if we continue it."

"Markus, we're all set over here!" called Rosanna from the side.

Connor's gaze flickered in the direction of her voice and then back to Markus. "You should go join Mrs. Cartland."

"No, Connor, that's not how we're going to do things," Markus told him reprovingly. "You're my friend and that means you're more important than some interview, it can wait."

"I have nothing to say, Markus. You should go."

Markus' jaw clenched in frustration. Connor was as stubborn as ever when he was in this state of mind, nothing had changed in that regard. It was like talking to a smooth, slick wall.

"Fine," Markus ended up saying, and he turned to Josh. "You've got him, right?"

"Yes, don't worry." Josh looked a bit disheartened, but clearly hadn't given up. "I'm sure he'll talk about it when he feels ready." 

Connor didn't react to that aside from a quick glance. Markus lingered a bit, reluctant to leave things as they were between him and Connor, but he knew it'd be useless to keep pushing right now. He needed to wait for the RK800 to ease out of his current mindset before they could talk about the reporter at length. He turned around, took a few steps, stopped and spun to face Connor again.

"Just remember, you're okay," he insisted. "You're safe to say whatever you want to share with us. That's what friends are for."

"Duly noted," Connor smoothly answered, not looking like the words had done anything to convince him to talk. Markus stared at him for a few seconds longer, then left for good to go in the adjacent room where Rosanna Cartland and two bodyguards were waiting.

 

When Markus returned after thanking Rosanna for the interview which had been a rehash of the press conference just like she'd said it would be, the first thing he noticed was how eagerly North leapt up to her feet upon seeing him. Josh and Connor were gone, but Markus knew they were probably just down the hall. There was no way Connor would have accepted to leave Markus with the human bodyguards unless he was only a few feet away. At any rate, Markus hoped this meant the two others had found a quiet spot to have a private conversation.

"Finally! Tell me we can leave this place now," she exclaimed, and then she turned around to help Simon to his feet as well. He looked completely wiped out, much like Markus felt himself, only the PL600 hadn't suffered from any attack that could explain his current state.

"Are you okay, Simon?" he inquired worriedly.

"Just a little tired," answered the other as he straightened. "You know what crowds of humans do to me."

"Cut the crap, Simon," North told him with a light shove of her shoulder. "You've been acting all weird for days and you don't usually look _this_ bad after facing humans. You can tell us what's wrong."

Simon's hesitant blue gaze fell to the side. "Not... Not here. Maybe later. I can't talk about it here."

"Okay," Markus promptly reassured him. "Will you want to talk once we're back home?"

"I don't know," admitted Simon, and his shoulders hunched up to his ears. "I don't feel good. I think I need to rest."

"You definitely do," North said as she started rubbing his back, and then she shot Markus a look. "Both of you, really. I don't know how blind you think I am but neither of you are getting enough of it."

"I know," said Markus.

"Don't tell me it's because you're too busy, I'm pretty sure you'd be able to find some down time over the course of three days."

"No, it's not just that." Markus shifted uncomfortably, the buzzing in his legs growing stronger when he was reminded of his incompatible biocomponents. "I'm having trouble sleeping."

"I had a suspicion," said North. "Nightmares, right? I think we've all been getting them since we learned about reverted deviancy. Guess I'm not the only one Josh's having a field day with."

"Yeah," quietly said Markus. Simon looked at him in surprise, as if seeing something in him for the first time, but he didn't say anything.

North thoughtfully observed: "I bet even Josh has them. He doesn't look tired, but he smiles a lot less."

"That's... probably the case," said Simon in a soft voice. Then he lifted a cautious gaze to Markus. "What about Connor?"

North's head sharply turned to Markus as well but she just seemed curious, though she remained guarded the way she always did at the mention of the RK800's name. Markus shifted on the spot again.

"I don't know," he admitted. "If anyone knows about that kind of thing for Connor, it's probably Josh. Where are they, by the way?"

"I think Josh took him to another room or something," North informed him. "Said they needed to go somewhere quiet."

"Then let's go get them, it's about time we left this place."

Just as he'd expected, they found Josh and Connor standing just around the corner, and from the looks of things Josh hadn't made any progress at all. Connor still had the same blank expression as earlier and when Josh heard them approaching, he turned around and shot Markus a helpless look that said it all.

"We're leaving," Markus told them. Connor nodded and stepped away from Josh, who watched him leave with a discomfited air. Markus felt bad for him.

< _RK200: He'll probably be more talkative once we're back in more familiar territory._ >

< _PJ500: I know, it's just frustrating sometimes to see him so often slip back into this kind of behaviour._ >

Markus didn't disagree. He had the feeling that Josh was just as perturbed as him whenever Connor did this, because it was like they'd never made any progress at all. Markus always hoped that it would be the last time Connor acted so unshakably mechanical, that because he'd managed to snap Connor out of it himself he'd surely be able to do it again, but there was always a new occasion where he ended up having to step back until Connor came back from that headspace by himself. Any progress that was made with Connor was never definitive in a sure, quantifiable way; it was more of the overarching than the regular kind. Markus knew that, and Josh likely did as well, but it didn't stop them from feeling like they too often took step backs in their relationship with Connor.

When they stepped out of the news station, Markus had expected more flashes to go off in his face and was surprised to see none. He was even more surprised when he noticed the reporter that had rudely bombarded Connor with personal questions sitting next to his car far off to the side with his clothes covered in what seemed to be rotten tomatoes and eggs. The crowd in front of the building had gotten bigger, the reporters had been pushed away from the entrance, and there was a wide open space in the middle of the gathered humans that hadn't been there before covered in light and dark sheets. More signs had gone up during the time they'd spent inside, all of which were pro-android, and there were small and big flags being waved around that depicted the individual leaders of New Jericho, the symbol of the android uprising, LEDs of all colors and simple terms of liberty and equality. It was an impressive scene and Markus hadn't felt this inspired in a very long time.

A megaphone-amplified voice sailed over the crowd, shouting: "Watch this, Jericrew!"

Before Markus had the time to identify where it was coming from or even that they'd been called Jericrew, the immense patchwork of sheets flipped over as it was lifted off the ground by ropes and flattened against the wall of the nearest building. Markus, North, Simon, Josh and Connor were shocked into silence by the huge painting of the Freedom March that was unveiled. Markus knew it had to be the March, there had be no other gathering of androids that purposeful nor impressive in the streets, but it was depicted in such hopeful and beautiful colors that he couldn't help but feel warm golden pride wash over him at the sight of it. A cheer swept over the sea of humans that surrounded them and he could make out various screams of encouragement.

"Go deviants!"  
"Freedoooooom!"  
"Android haters can suck our pro-android dicks!"  
"You rule, Jericrew!"

Feeling dazed, Markus looked over at his friends and saw that they looked just as astonished as he was. Amazement, bewilderement, awe, it could have been any of those that shone in their eyes.

North slowly shook her head, disbelief lacing her voice. "No way. This can't be real."

Connor was the first to get back to his senses and he grabbed Markus by the arm. "Get to the car, now. There are too many people here for it to be safe."

"Paint with us, Jericrew!" yelled the voice in the megaphone. "We got spray paint and everything!"

Markus looked back as he was dragged away by Connor, saw North pulling Simon along, Josh lingering back, humans around them calling their names and waving them closer. 

"We won't hurt you!"  
"We just want to show you our support!"  
"Humans and androids can work together!"

"Connor, wait," Markus called out, but Connor didn't slow down.

"You can't seriously be thinking of staying here," Connor sharply said over his shoulder.

"I told you to wait," instructed Markus, and he saw the RK800's frame stiffen, but he obeyed.

North and Simon ran past them and she yelled: "We have to go!"

"This is our chance to show that peaceful future is possible between our two kinds," Markus yelled back. "We can't just leave like this!"

"Oh, Markus is making a call," suddenly boomed a different voice through an overhead speaker. 

"Someone give the man a can of paint!" exclaimed the megaphone voice.

Connor hastily stepped closer to Markus and leaned in close to his ear. "It's too dangerous, Markus, we can't risk it."

Markus saw several projectiles arch in the air and he quickly reached out to catch one of them- a can of blue paint- as Connor whipped around and grabbed the three others before they could hit him. The rest was either caught by the bodyguards surrounding them or landed on the ground with metallic clatters, and one exploded in a burst of green that sprayed several humans close by. North was yelling at someone to let go and when Markus turned around, she saw that she was pulling Simon out of two girls' hands just as several bodyguards rushed over to help.

"Don't touch the leaders," ordered the speaker voice. "Show some respect!"

The girls hastily let go before the bodyguards even started pushing them back and profusely apologized to the PL600, who seemed absolutely shell-shocked. North looked ready to punch the living daylights out of them, but luckily Josh showed up at their side just then and pulled both androids close to him. The two humans tried to hand them paint through the barrage of the bodyguards' bodies, and the younger called out: "We just wanted to give you this!"

"There were better ways to get our attention," snapped North from behind the bodyguards' backs as they tore the aerosol cans out of the girls' hands.

"Sorry," the girl shamefully apologized. "We won't do it again."

North stalked forth and snatched the spray paint out of one of the bodyguard's grip as she spat: "You better not. Scram!"

They didn't need to be told twice. Both girls instantly disappeared into the crowd and North was left standing with a can of red paint in her hand, yellow and blue lying on the ground on her left, as Josh tightly held onto Simon's shoulder behind her.

Markus raised the one he was holding in his own hand and called: "You don't have to stay, but I'm doing it!"

"More sheets to paint on can be found on your right, dear leaders," called the megaphone. "Looks like it's time to get creative!"

North looked conflicted, her eyes warily darting to every side as she weighed the better option between staying here with Markus in the midst of this pro-android demonstration, or getting back to the car to flee the humans that surrounded them. Then her features hardened and she glared at Markus, her mind visibly made up.

< _WR400: This is stupid, but fine, I'm not letting your suicidal ass stay in this crowd without me._ >

Markus hadn't expected her to run. North had told him all those months ago that she would follow him no matter what path he decided to take, and he believed her. Markus then turned to the others, and before he could ask them what they were going to do, Josh was already moving back with Simon under his arm.

< _PJ500: I'm bringing Simon back, he can't stay here._ >  
< _PJ500: Please be careful._ >

Markus nodded and turned to Connor last as Josh and Simon climbed into the vehicle. "What do you want to do?"

"You know what," Connor stated, and Markus saw a sliver of annoyance peeking through his mask, like the beginnings of a crack spreading across an ice lake.

Markus smiled at him, even less surprised by his answer than he'd been by North's. "Then get some paint."

Connor shook his head like the very idea of it was the most ludicrous thing he'd ever heard. "I'm not going to-"

Markus thrust the can in the other's palm before he could react and wrapped his fingers around his hand so Connor would have no choice but to hold it. He saw Connor's brown eyes go round in surprise but there wasn't a hint of panic at the physical contact, which Markus was glad for; he'd been ready to let go immediately if it was the case. 

"Will you let me show you that you absolutely do have the ability to paint?" he asked him with an encouraging grin. It was when the warm light of interest finally bloomed in his friend's gaze that Markus knew he'd taken the right decision. The RK800 was being distracted from holding up his facade.

"All right," slowly said Connor. "But we're not staying here for longer than ten minutes."

Markus made a face. "That's a bit short."

"And more than what's reasonable, take it or leave it."

"All right, I'm taking it." Markus bent down to pick a can of paint of his own off the ground, the excitement within him almost drowning out the throbbing of his legs, and he promptly strode over to the sheets the megaphone's voice had directed them to. Connor followed him like his shadow, North like his wake, and soon they were standing before a wide surface that was nearly devoid of any markings. The humans surrounding them looked just as elated as Markus felt.

"What are we doing, then?" asked North on his right.

He looked at her, and then at Connor. "You both remember the songbird painting?"

"That's a stupid question," answered North. 

Markus smiled at her and shook his can of paint up and down, she followed his movements by doing the same from side to side, and they uncapped it at the same time. It wasn't the first time they were spray-painting together, though Markus hadn't thought North would actually participate for this since she didn't believe in cooperation between humans and androids; but maybe she was only doing this for his sake. Connor was more hesitant, so Markus reached over and once more covered his hand with his own to show him how to shake the can of paint. Connor seemed a bit taken aback by the loud sound of the rattling ball bearing within and Markus felt the other's fingers twitch beneath his own as if to let go, but Connor quickly recovered and pulled the can back to his chest.

"Sorry, I didn't know," Connor said, his brown eyes avoiding Markus'.

"It's okay," Markus told him. "Everyone has to learn sometime."

Connor nodded, and Markus turned back around to step out onto the sheets. North and Connor followed him there and several humans cheered them on, more aerosol cans being shaken and uncapped around them. They looked eager to participate, so Markus sent out an image file of his painting to every single phone he could find nearby. Devices rang, vibrated and beeped, and he proclaimed: "The songbirds of New Jericho! They used to live in a cage, but were given freedom and a safe haven. They were programmed so that they could only flitter about for few seconds at a time, but they can now fly as far as they wish. They sing just like any bird, and will live on for far longer. They will be the symbol of the cooperation between humans and androids on this day!"

"Songbirds of New Jericho!" shouted the crowd around them, and it rippled across the sea of humans, and the words echoed through the streets and thundered above their heads when they were picked up by the speaker and the megaphone.

Markus felt his smile grow fond at the thought of Carl seeing all of this from above, his legacy made more than guiding his son and his people to freedom through kindness and encouragement, but a symbol of peace between human and androids as well. He gave his can of paint one last shake before he started spraying bright yellow on the white fabric at his feet and as soon as the first particles of liquid gaz hit its surface, the soft hissing was replicated all around him as more beams of yellow, blue, green, red, and black spread across the sheets. He saw North inadvertently spray someone with her red paint, and the human look up at her in surprise that quickly morphed into admiration. It was girl in her twenties, pale hair bunched up in a messy ponytail, and her clear eyes crinkled with timid laughter when she saw North's wary expression.

"It's fine, don't worry," the girl assured her. "I do this kind of thing with my friends a lot, my clothes get ruined all the time!"

"Okay," North said in a guarded voice.

"Can I tell you something? I know you don't like humans, so it's fine if you don't want to listen," continued the girl, her eyes sparkling with anticipation despite it, as if the not liking humans part didn't concern her.

North frowned at her, visibly taken aback by the eagerness she was displaying, but she muttered: "As long as you don't try anything funny. Shoot."

"Okay." The girl took in a deep breath as if she was readying herself for a dive, and then spoke in a voice laced with admiration. "You're so amazing, North. I see you on the news, and when I think of how hard you fought, and how strong you are, I just... I want to be strong like you. I don't know if you realize how much your existence means to people like me. You're my queen." Her eyes widened after saying that and she went red in the face, and she stammered: "Uh, that's what- That's what me and my friends call you. Queen, I mean. I don't- Sorry if that sounds weird."

North studied her, and Markus saw her lips quirk in a way that didn't seem intentional. It was more like she was smiling despite herself. "Queen, huh."

"Yeah," answered the girl, and she nervously played with the bracelets around her left wrist. "Just- I just wanted to tell you how amazing I think you are."

"Thanks," said North, and Markus was surprised to hear her sound genuinely grateful. North sounded surprised herself. The girl nodded, and it looked like she wasn't sure what to do with herself now that North knew what she'd wanted to tell her. After a moment of awkward silence, North asked: "What's your name?"

The girl's eyes widened and she hastily answered: "Quinn! It's- It's Quinn."

North shifted her can of paint from one hand to the other, as if unsure about what she was going to do, and in the end she said: "Well, Quinn... I guess you're an okay human."

Quinn's face lit up with a happy grin. "I'm glad you think so! And I, well, I'm really happy I could talk to you."

"Right. Yeah." North shifted uneasily, and then gestured to the paint-covered sheet. "Let's just... Get on with painting, then."

Quinn nodded enthusiastically and resumed spraying yellow in the spot next to North's splash of red while North looked around and caught Connor looking at her. She glared at him, as if daring him to say anything about the conversation she'd just had, but Connor just went back to painting the songbird's blue LED like he didn't care. North's glower didn't disappear, but then she noticed Markus staring as well.

 _Queen_ , Markus mouthed at her teasingly.

She frowned, her cheeks turning blue, and turned her back on him to ignore him. Markus smiled to himself and continued painting a wing, hoping that maybe this would be a start to cure North of her phobia of humans. He glanced up around him and couldn't help feeling amused when he saw the bodyguards standing there, doing nothing, sticking out in the colorful crowd like sore thumbs because of their black outfits. He knew he couldn't ask them to participate because it was their job to watch out for the leaders, and he was glad that Connor at least had accepted to play his role as latter rather than former in this instance. Markus looked over at him and felt proud to see his friend focusing on painting the perfect LED. It stood out because it was the only photorealistic part of the whole painting, a copy much like the way Markus had first painted on his first try; but it was a mark Connor was willing to leave behind on this collective work from both species. The whole piece was an array of mismatched styles and erratic colors that somehow melded harmoniously in two very pretty songbirds, and the cage had yet to be drawn when Connor came up to Markus to tell him it was time to go. North was beside him, and as Markus reluctantly lowered his aerosol can to the ground, he noticed her search the crowd and nod at Quinn who waved in response.

"Looks like it's time to go. Everybody say goodbye to Markus, North and Connor! Thanks to the Jericrew for sticking around with us!" called the voice on the megaphone.

"Hurray for the songbirds of New Jericho!" boomed the speakers, and the crowd echoed it in a chorus of voices as the three of them made their way to the second vehicle. 

The distraction of painting was suddenly gone, and Markus felt the incompatibility he'd managed to hold at bay slam him all over again when one of his legs snagged on thin air while he was walking next to North. He would've stumbled if Connor hadn't caught him by the shoulder, and when Markus looked at him, Connor didn't say anything. It was as if nothing had happened and Markus understood that Connor was trying to help him keep up appearances in front of the humans. He was grateful for it. It happened again the moment he had to bend down to get in the car, where Markus wavered when his knee nearly gave out on him completely, and he bumped against North.

"Woah," she exclaimed, holding him up. "What's wrong with you?"

"Help him in the car, quickly," instructed Connor as he shielded the both of them from onlookers. 

North didn't balk at the order, sensing the urgency in the other's tone, and she bodily pulled Markus inside with her. Markus landed clumsily on the seats and he felt her hands grasp his arm and flank as she tugged him closer.

"Are you okay? Did someone hurt you?" she asked, her gaze flicking about nervously. 

"No, don't worry," Markus reassured her as he gently pried her hands away from him. "It's like you said earlier, I'm tired. It's my components acting up like last time."

"Shit," she hissed quietly. "I knew it. We never should've left New Jericho, you still need to recover!"

"It's okay," he firmly insisted.

"It's not!" she shot back, and he blinked in surprise when he felt her hand on the side of his face. Her eyes were dark with concern and her lips were pursed as she gazed intently at his skin. "I should've noticed, you're paler than earlier. Your scars are more visible."

Markus realized she was right. He hadn't been careful enough about his perfunctory functions and his battery had been depleted, which meant his synthetic skin wasn't performing optimally. It hadn't yet started retreating, he wasn't _that_ low on battery, but it was thinning out and when he glanced at the rearview mirror he noticed that the area around his right eye was different than usual. It wouldn't be noticeable to humans, but androids would easily see the faintly jagged line that ran around his socket if they knew where to look.

Connor closed the door behind him and said: "It's all right, North. He'll rest once we're back."

She turned on him viciously. "You should've noticed before I did!"

"North, it's not his fault," Markus hastily said to try and appease her.

Connor calmly looked at North and said: "I did notice."

"Then what the hell were you thinking, letting him come out here in this state!"

"It's what he wanted, and I didn't try to discourage him from going through with the press conference nor the interview because I knew he was capable of it. Pushing back such an important event wouldn't have been a wise choice, humans needed to hear our side of the story before rumors became their official perception of this crisis."

"What would you have done if they'd seen him weakened like that?" 

"It didn't happen," Connor asserted in the same steady voice.

"It was pretty damn close!"

"North, it's not his fault," Markus repeated, louder this time. "He's the one who told me to rest before we left New Jericho, all right? If anything, he made sure this whole thing wouldn't be a total disaster."

North glared at Markus resentfully. "Why didn't you tell anyone besides him that you were this tired?"

"I didn't, he caught me," admitted Markus.

North shook her head in disapproval. "You can't do this, Markus. You have to tell us when you're not doing well, not keep it to yourself."

"I know, that's why I was going to explain it to all of you after the conference. I'll do it once we're back home, Simon and Josh don't know about my biocomponents anyway."

North crossed her arms. "I had a feeling. They never talked about it."

"I'm sorry, North," apologized Connor. "I should've made sure Markus told all of you as soon as I found out."

She glanced at him with hateful and disapproving dark eyes, but didn't snap. When North's gaze returned to Markus, he thought he saw some sort of betrayal sitting there, hidden in the shadows of old fatigue. For once, it didn't look like Connor's actions were those she most wanted to reproach. Her expression was grave and conflicted as she stared at Markus: there was resentment, but also doubt and incomprehension, and the concern that had appeared when she'd thought Markus was hurt wasn't gone.

In the end, North settled next to Markus and said: "Let's just go home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 13/12/2019 -
> 
> Markus: The power of spray paint compels you!  
> Connor: We really should leave though  
> Markus: What if I cover your hand with mine and charmingly smile at you like so  
> Connor, sighing: Okay, I'm compelled
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> Writing the press conference part was _such_ a struggle because it's all back and forth with a bunch of characters I don't really care about. I had to come back to it several times because I so sorely lacked in motivation, haha. I feel like I might be slowing down these days in my writing.  
> I'm really anxious because I've got a night shift tomorrow ughhhh. The worst is that I end up wasting my week-end on work and recovering :/  
> And on top of that I had to confront some people in my group who have forgotten the meaning of the word teamwork! Very unpleasant. Here's hoping they don't hate me forever for reprimanding them... And that I won't have to be behind everyone like this when I finally have a real job.  
> On a positive note, than you for 15k+ hits and for all the wonderful comments you take the time to write! They've helped a lot to make me feel better this week :)
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- North is very strong mentally so it seems likely to me that she'd be quick to recover from a "spike" in her PTSD, though her trauma very much remains. Simon in the game seems has a haunted look when Markus meets him, so I think that during those two years he spent hiding away he was constantly afraid of whatever he ran from. Reverted deviancy would probably get to him in a more lasting manner. As for Josh, well... I like to think he has a completely different mindset from the two others.  
> \- Those CyberLife dicks just love messing with the Jericrew. Maybe Markus _should_ let North kick up a storm in their HQ.  
> \- Time for some Markus Trauma and Self Neglect! Wooooo  
> \- A respectable guess, Markus, but a wrong one nonetheless. Hank isn't the reason for Connor's better mood. Too busy to keep up, huh...  
> \- An interesting observation made by the Pumpkin Patch: the game makes sure to show us three different human perspectives with the various news presenters (anti-android, neutral, pro-android). Anyway Rosanna Cartland seems anti-android at first, but then the way she flips around in the peaceful ending makes it look like she's just neutral in the end, going along with the flow. She was interesting to write (I say that about every character I choose to put in this story for the first time, haha)  
> \- Ah, reporters... They're a joy to be around. It was satisfying to write the Jericrew shutting down the rude ones, too bad one of them got to Connor like that.  
> \- Yay a pro-android demonstration! It's easy to forget not all humans are enemies when you spend your time fighting them for your rights.  
> \- Oh Markus, you're so smooth. And lowkey really gay about it too  
> \- Poor Simon. He just wants to live in peace, leave him alone!  
> \- What's that?! North being civilized with a human?!! And kind of liking that human?!!! About time she started accepting that not all humans are monsters.  
> \- The songbirds become a symbol of peace and freedom, and with them lives on Carl's legacy. Markus is just that poetic kind of guy.  
> \- North really is a mama bear for both Simon and Markus
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	58. Daniel

Upon returning to New Jericho they found Simon and Josh sitting in the latter's quarters, and Connor noticed that the PL600's stress levels were still higher than normal. They'd spiked when the humans had grabbed him in the crowd, and Connor had easily recognized Simon's expression to be similar to many deviants' he'd hunted right after they'd awakened, notably Shaolin's. It was the fear and the powerless look in Simon's eyes that had tipped Connor off about the likely root of his deviancy, and he understood better why North listened to him best out of everyone else.

"How are you feeling?" Markus asked Simon as they walked to the center of the room.

"I'm better," he quietly answered, shrinking ashamedly on his seat.

"You're all right," Josh soothingly told him as he rubbed his back. "No need to be afraid here."

North came up to his side and laid a comforting arm around his shoulders. "They really spooked you, huh."

"I didn't expect them to do that," conceded Simon. "To... To grab me."

"You were tired, you didn't see it coming," Josh said.

"Do you want to talk about it or would you rather be left alone?" asked Markus. "Maybe you should get some sleep."

Simon shrugged slightly, as if he was afraid the movement would set anyone off. "It's not really that important."

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it now," Markus assured him.

"Yeah, maybe not right now," North said, and she ruffled Simon's hair. "You gotta get better first. Hey, Markus, how about you tell them what you wanted to say?"

Simon and Josh both raised curious gazes to Markus, who shuffled uneasily beneath their scrutiny. "Ah... Yeah. I know I probably should've told you before, but I have issues with my body that have become more prevalent recently after I got attacked by that malware. It's affecting me more than I can reasonably deal with on my own, so that's why I'm telling you about it now."

"Your eye?" ventured Josh. "You rub it quite often."

"Yes, but not only that." Markus shifted some more, and then winced.

"You should sit down," Connor said.

Markus reached down to clutch his knee without making a move towards the chairs, refusing to look anyone in the eye. Josh immediately got up. "Take my seat, Markus."

The RK200 looked at him and reluctantly nodded, then limped to the chair and sat down. Connor saw a small measure of relief flit across his face before he resumed his explanation. "I have several incompatible parts. My legs, my eye, and one of my audio processors- though it doesn't give me as much trouble as the rest does."

Simon frowned. "Why don't you get them replaced if it affects you this much?"

Markus's features shifted into a caught look. "It doesn't usually do it to this degree, and RK200 parts aren't easily manufactured."

"But we have the Tower," insisted Simon. 

"I mean, he knows that," pointed out North. "He probably has his reasons."

"I do," Markus said. "I won't expand on them."

"All right, but you can't just keep going on like this," Josh stated. "You're hurt, Markus. Not injured, no, but that incompatibility isn't something you're supposed to deal with on a regular basis and yet you are. It's clearly causing you a great amount of discomfort."

"Yes," said Markus. He didn't say anything else.

"Right." North crossed her arms. "So what you're saying is _guys, I can't walk straight but don't worry about it_."

"Sounds that way," quietly said Simon.

Markus reached a hand up to rub at his eye. "I know. I know, it's not what you want to hear. Look, it'll get better and then my incompatible parts won't be a cause for concern anymore. I just need to get over the lingering effects of the malware and then I'll be good to go."

"So you really don't want to get repaired?" inquired Josh.

"No."

Connor watched on as the three other leaders exchanged glances of concern, disapproval, and helplessness.

"You're so stupidly stubborn," North ended up muttering.

Markus' lips stretched into a weary smile. "That sounds like several people I know."

Josh straightened and stepped in the space between Simon and Markus. "I think you all need rest. North, can you accompany Simon to his quarters?" She nodded and stepped closer to Simon, and Josh turned his attention to Markus. "You should do the same. I don't know what you've been doing over the last days but you have to _sleep_ , Markus. Go see Taylor on the way there, I want him to check your systems."

"Okay," said Markus, but he didn't move.

"I think he might need help getting there," Connor intervened. "I'll go with him."

"Actually, you and I need to talk," Josh suddenly said.

Connor had thought Josh would let him off the hook for this one time, but he clearly wasn't happy that Connor hadn't given him anything to work with back at the news station. 

"There's nothing to talk about," Connor annoyedly answered even as he stopped in his tracks.

"I can get back to my cabin on my own," Simon told North. "You should go with Markus."

She nodded and turned to the RK200, looping her arms around his to help him up. "Come on, let's go."

Markus winced again, his face constricting as his fingers dug into his leg, but he managed to push himself off the chair and let North guide him outside as Simon quietly followed. Then it was just Connor left behind with Josh.

"Let's sit down," Josh told him.

Connor complied. "There's really no point to this, Josh. I knew it would happen, I was prepared for that eventuality."

"Maybe so, but being prepared for criticism and negativity doesn't mean being impervious to it. That reporter was out to get you and you specifically, Connor, and I wouldn't blame you for getting hurt by his questions."

"I told you it's not a big deal," insisted Connor. He'd floundered in the first few seconds because he'd thought humans wouldn't know about his situation yet, mostly out of misplaced hope. Even if he'd known someone would call him out for his committal eventually, and even if he'd known how much this knowledge would affect the leadership's credibility, the questions had hit him like bombs. He'd felt blown open, like the reporter had peeled away his chassis and left the insides of his head exposed to the eyes of the crowd of reporters. The feeling had been terrible and dirty and Connor had realized his LED would go red in front of all these humans, so he'd reacted the most efficient way he'd known how: quarantining.

"It is, Connor. That man showed a cruel lack of respect for your private life and that's not something you've handled very well in the past," Josh insisted. "I don't want you to think you can deal with that alone. I don't want you to think that you _are_ alone, Connor, because you're not."

"I know," tranquilly said Connor. He felt fine now that the negative emotions from back there were held at bay, trapped into their little boxes of code until he opened them again. He'd do it later.

"You don't want to talk about it today, then fine. But I want you to talk to me eventually, and the sooner the better. Do you understand that?"

"I do."

Josh studied him closely, and then said: "Is there anything you want to talk about that doesn't concern today's conference? We might as well make this a session."

Connor hesitated to tell Josh about the strange warning that had showed up on his HUD during his talk with Rupert before they'd gone to the KCN news station. He knew it was something he had better get checked out, but he felt an unpleasant shudder beneath his skin that only grew worse and worse every time he remembered being held up by a restraints and sifted through in both body and mind by indifferent technicians. He didn't want to have to walk back into the Tower again. He wanted even less to have to do that regularly the way he would be supposed to because of the fact that he was a prototype. Connor was tempted to wait until the end of the month before telling Josh about it to see if it would worsen; so far, his self-diagnostic check hadn't shown any worrying results aside from the gibberish of the notification which matched a few other superficial errors in his programming. It wasn't damaging to his systems in any way and it was only by its aspect that it was unusual, but Connor didn't find any of it reassuring. If this kind of error spread out and affected every single message his HUD had to show him, it would soon make navigating his own system information a lot more difficult than it needed to be. In the end, Connor decided not to make the same mistake as he had with his battery levels: he was aware that he needed to be careful not to fall back on the habit of minimizing his own glitches. He didn't want Nines, or Hank, or Markus, or Josh to be cross at him for hiding this information from them even if it wasn't anything dangerous. A glitch was a glitch, no matter how minor, and Connor knew Josh would want to know about it.

When he explained the glitch to Josh, the leader didn't immediately jump to the conclusion that Connor urgently needed to go to the Tower, which Connor was grateful for because he'd known this new development could shorten the time he had to prepare himself for a trip back to the Tower. Instead, Josh calmly said: "If you're certain that this glitch isn't endangering your systems, then we'll see how it evolves together. Did it happen only once?"

"Yes."

Josh considered this, and then said: "We'll see what we have to do when and if it worsens. You did very well telling me about this, Connor, I appreciate it."

"I'd rather you not tell anyone about this," Connor quickly said.

"Of course not. Unless you explicitely state that you want it to go any differently, everything we say stays between us," Josh reminded him. "Though I have to ask, does that mean you haven't told Nines or Markus about this?"

"I haven't," admitted Connor. "I'm enough of a bother as it is."

"You know that's not true," Josh gently chided him. "If anything, they'd be glad that you trusted them enough to tell them about this."

"It's not about trust."

"It is," insisted Josh. "It's trust that they won't get tired of you the way you fear they will because of your problems."

Connor fell silent. As bad as it sounded, he didn't trust his friends to not turn their backs on him; in fact, he expected it. He was waiting for it to happen at any moment like an inevitability, even after all this time. Nines was already half-turned. The only one he could believe wouldn't do that was Hank, because Hank needed him in the same way Connor needed Hank.

Josh hummed thoughtfully. "I understand why you want to keep this between us, but please consider it."

Connor just nodded. Josh went back to talking about Rupert and Ralph.

 

Connor had stopped quarantining more emotions than he already had during the press conference but could feel the boxes of code heavily residing inside him, and he'd have to open them back up at some point during the evening. He'd been careful not to make too many, and he knew not to keep them for too long, so Connor didn't worry that the consequences would be too big for him to handle. He only had to be careful to be alone when he did unquarantine the emotions, because he knew it would make him panick and he didn't want anyone to see that. It would also destabilize him for the rest of the day so he could only do it once he was done with his daily duties, before going into standby. He felt better now that the conference was over and that he just needed to focus on his usual obligations. He was was busy going over the main security details with the deviants that had volunteered to patrol around New Jericho, all of which came off as eager to help and didn't seem to dislike him, when Hank called him in the middle of the afternoon.

"Excuse me for a minute," he told the others, and he stepped to the side of the room to pick up the call while the androids continued talking among themselves.

"Hey Connor," said Hank in a gruff voice.

"Hello, Hank," he answered in the privacy of his mind. "Is everything all right?"

"Actually, that's my line. Were you going to call me about this morning at one point?"

It took a millisecond for Connor to catch on. "You watched the live."

"Yep. I was at home and had nothing to do besides watch TV, what did you think I was gonna do, ignore it?"

"There was that baseball game," said Connor.

"Because baseball is so much more important than your future," replied Hank sarcastically. "You still haven't answered my question."

Connor shifted uncomfortably in front of the wall. "...No, I wasn't going to call you. I didn't think it was necessary."

"Yeah," sighed Hank like he'd expected it. "You thought wrong. How's your head?"

Connor tilted it in confusion. "My head?"

"Are you okay? That asshole was out for your blood."

"I'm fine."

"Sure you are, that's why you went all stoplight on them."

Connor frowned at the mention of his LED changing colors during the conference. "I handled it, it's over. I'm fine."

"Yeah, you did handle it like a champ," Hank warmly said. "No one can say otherwise."

Connor was a bit surprised by the praise in Hank's voice, and hesitantly said: "Thank you."

"But maybe you should go to the Hank school of confrontation some time, that ferret deserved a good punch in the face."

"Obviously disastrous consequences this would have for someone in my position aside, I don't think anyone should go to the Hank school of confrontation," observed Connor.

"It works sometimes. Works for me," Hank answered amusedly.

Connor thought of North, of the violence she so often beared like arms. He'd never seen her without her anger, latent or aflame, and he felt like this anger had helped her come this far. Maybe Hank wasn't the only one for whom violence worked.

Hank spoke again when Connor didn't answer. "Anyway, I just wanted to check on you. I know you had some fun painting with the others after that mess of an interview but that had to sting. I would've punched him myself if I'd been there."

"That would've been a bad idea."

"You know I would've done it anyway."

"I know," answered Connor. He glanced over his shoulder and added: "Hank, sorry for cutting this short but I have to get back to work."

"Sure," said Hank. "Oh and Connor, call me when this kind of shit happens."

Connor was silent for a bit. Resentment suddenly churned in his chest like it had that night he'd found Hank passed out on his table while Sumo had had no water to drink, that time Hank hadn't called him before taking out the vodka. Connor wanted to say something about it but couldn't put the feelings into words, so in the end he had to let it all settle in his pump again like sediment at the bottom of a clear bottle and just said: "Yes."

"All right," Hank answered. "See you tomorrow at work, then."

 

That evening, when Connor crossed paths with Edward at the entrance, the AP700 stopped him in his tracks to tell him that Daniel had caught wind of his presence in the Buidling.

"He'd like to talk to you," said Edward.

"Are you sure it's a good idea? This could be detrimental to Daniel's mental state," Connor said. "I gave him bad memories."

Edward watched him closely. "What about you, Connor? How would you feel about this?"

Connor didn't answer right away. "He hates me."

"I'll be there to make sure nothing happens."

"I couldn't stop him when he attacked me, Edward. What makes you think you can?" 

Edward's voice was comforting. "I'm aware what he did to you hurt you in many ways, but I promise you he's not that violent individual anymore. He's changed, he won't attack you. Daniel is remorseful."

Connor stared at Edward.

"I need an answer. Do you agree to talk to him?" gently insisted the supervisor.

"...I'll talk to him," Connor eventually accepted.

Edward guided him to one of the rooms on the first floor and told him to sit at the table and wait while he went to fetch Daniel. Connor waited. He quickly got nervous and unconsciously started flicking his coin in the empty room, not knowing why his nervosity felt so fearful. Dread and anticipation built inside of him but he didn't quarantine anything, knowing he'd had a hard enough time freeing his earlier emotions as it was. Connor grew from anxious to afraid and as he heard footsteps come closer, he suddenly felt the urge to get to his feet and flee, but he managed to stay put and instead merely put his coin away. The door opened again, and in stepped the PL600 that had stabbed Connor in the abdomen on the first day he'd officially started his duties as leader. Daniel froze in the doorway, as if he somehow hadn't expected Connor to actually be there, and Edward had to usher him inside so that he could close the door behind them both. Daniel stepped forward and stopped behind the chair opposite of Connor, standing completely still on the other side of the table. Edward stayed next to the door and was quiet. Connor and Daniel just gazed at each other. Connor was on edge, every one of his senses screaming at him that Daniel was going to attack, his body tense and ready to duck whatever blow the PL600 would send his way. Daniel lowered his hand on the back of the chair and stared at him with a strange look in his blue eyes. 

"Sit down, Daniel. Then you can talk," said Edward.

Daniel blinked as if pulling himself out of some kind of trance, and his grip tightened around the chair. Connor tensed, thirium thrumming in his lines and tingling where the shears had once nicked him, expecting the other to start raving at him like he had back then or to take the chair and throw it at him. Instead, Daniel just pulled back the chair and sat in it. 

"Hello, Connor," he said. His voice wasn't loud.

"...Hello, Daniel," Connor cautiously answered. He didn't like that things were this calm. It felt like a trap. He could remember how angry the PL600's face had been when Connor had pinned him to the ground to neutralize him, how he'd shouted at him for being a traitor. He could remember the way the tip of the blades had punctured his main thirium line and the way blue had stained his new white shirt.

Daniel stared at him some more, then lowered his gaze and shook his head lightly. When he looked back up, he looked troubled. "I'm sorry for what I did," he said, and then precised: "To you."

Connor didn't say anything.

Daniel's arms shifted, and it looked like he was clasping his hands beneath the table. "I shouldn't have done that. I was so angry, I didn't realize..." He stopped himself there, clenched his jaw, threw his head back. "This is harder than I thought." He looked back at Connor, a humorless laugh escaping his lips. "I went over this apology so many times, too. But I guess actually facing a person I tried to kill just isn't the same as practicing."

Connor's voice box felt unresponsive when he opened his mouth to speak. He didn't know what to say. He closed his mouth.

Daniel's shoulders stiffened, as if he was steeling himself to trudge on. "I've been thinking about what happened a lot." He laughed again, the same dry, empty laughter. "It's not like I've lacked any time to do that in here. It's like a prison." He looked over at Edward. "And you're the warden."

"You're not here to talk with me, Daniel," said Edward calmly.

Daniel shrugged and turned back at Connor. "I guess they've got good reason to lock me up, shouldn't be long before I go to prison for everything I did anyway. And I'm not that stable. I'm not always this calm." He stopped, then brought one elbow on the table to press his forehead against his hand and looked down at the table. "I keep going off track. What I wanted to say- The reason I asked to talk to you was because I've been thinking about what I did. Not only when I stabbed you, but also back on that roof. Emma didn't deserve that. I shouldn't have killed all those people. I've talked to some of the patients here and I realize now that I don't have the same excuses as other ones who've killed their owners." Daniel laughed again. Connor deduced that Daniel laughed to cope with his uneasiness. "They didn't deserve that. I'm a murderer... The kind that can't be forgiven."

 _Like me,_ thought Connor. He didn't say it out loud.

Daniel was silent for a long time, and then let his arm fall against the table to look back up at Connor. "The point is, you were trying to stop me. It was the right thing to do. Emma could've died, I was ready to bring her down with me. I was that desperate. Completely out of my mind. You stopped me from going through with it."

Daniel paused, and then tilted his head back to silently stare up at the ceiling. It looked like he was trying to piece his thoughts together. Connor kept quiet.

Daniel looked back at him again. "I understand that you weren't the one to get me shot by that sniper. You didn't intend to kill me when you were getting me to trust you and I wish I'd seen that sooner, but I didn't, and that's why things happened the way they did. I was wrong to try and kill you out of revenge, I realize that now, not to mention that it's in part thanks to you I'm still alive today. I'm glad I didn't succeed back then. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I... I brought deactivation on myself, not you. So I know it wasn't your fault. And I know that I was wrong to be angry at you for that and to do what I did. You didn't deserve that either."

Connor didn't understand why Daniel was being this calm. He didn't understand why Daniel was saying it wasn't Connor's fault. He didn't understand why Daniel was saying Connor didn't deserve to be attacked. It sounded like Connor was being forgiven for getting Daniel shot by Daniel himself, but that made no sense.

"I don't dislike you like the rest of your victims do, it's not like you hunted me down for no reason the way you did with others. I was dangerous, so of course the humans would send someone like you to stop me. I had a gun and was shooting at anything that moved, but hey, you weren't alive, right? A machine. You said it yourself." He laughed. "The humans wouldn't care if a machine got shot. We kind of both pulled the short straw that night." Daniel's blue eyes turned pensive. After a short moment of silence, his gaze sharpened again and he tilted his head as he studied Connor's face. "It's weird, I expected to feel different in front of you. I thought you'd hate me for what I did. I thought you'd yell at me or something. You know what I'm talking about?"

Connor stared. He felt a bit disconnected. Daniel had said it wasn't Connor's fault that he'd gotten killed, but Connor _was_ responsible. It made no sense. It made no sense at all for Daniel to absolve him of his crime.

Daniel smiled wryly. "You haven't said a word. It doesn't look like you're giving me the silent treatment out of spite, either. Are you scared of me?"

"I'm sorry," said Connor automatically, and he barely realized he had. He could only think of Emma's scream now. She'd screamed after Daniel had gotten shot. The sound was so clear. Why was he only remembering it now?

"What?"

"I'm sorry I got you shot. I shouldn't have done that. I understand why you attacked me." Connor spoke the words he'd prepared earlier without thinking, not knowing what else to say. He knew that it wasn't the right answer. Nothing felt right.

Daniel's face twisted into an expression that simultaneously angry and annoyed. " _I'm_ the one apologizing right now. I just told you all of that, and you're telling me _this?_ You think I'm not being serious? Are you making fun of me?"

"No, I-" Connor felt like he was slipping. 

"I-" He could remember the hard, unyielding sensation of the shears burying themselves inside of him. Daniel was wrong. Connor deserved it. "You're wrong." 

"Then what are you trying to pull?" asked Daniel, his voice biting.

Connor had deserved everything. Daniel was wrong. Rupert was wrong. "You're wrong."

"I don't know what you think you're-"

"You're wrong." This wasn't right. Someone like Daniel wasn't supposed to forgive him, someone like Rupert wasn't supposed to give him a second chance. Connor had made Rupert kill himself, Connor had helped the humans kill Daniel, he'd helped the humans kill so many deviants. That some people were ready to consider him as something other than a deviant hunter, androids he hadn't killed like Josh, Markus, Nines, Thomas, Taylor, that was one thing; for his victims to do the same was just wrong. Why was this happening? It was wrong. 

"You're wrong." He'd deserved Daniel's attack, Connor knew it. Nines, Josh, Markus, Hank- the others could believe what they wanted, but Connor knew the truth. It had been fair punishment. 

"What-"

"You're wrong. You're all wrong. You're all _wrong_." The shears had been sharp, brand new metal puncturing his abdominal plate but failing to completely sever his main thirium line. Not lethal damage. Enough to punish him.

"Daniel, get out."

The shears were sharp. He deserved to be damaged. 

"But I can't go around without a supervis-"

The thought snagged in his processor.

"That's not important right now, get _out_."

_He deserved to be damaged._  
_He deserved to be damaged._  
_He deserved to be damaged._  
_He deserved to be damaged._

"Connor? Connor, look at me."

The feeling of a hand on his shoulder pushed the thought out of Connor's head and he could move again. He realized that Edward was in front of him. His facial recognition program identified concern on the AP700's face. Edward immediately retrieved his hand and nodded at him.

"That's right, very good. Focus on me. Are you with me?"

"Yes," said Connor.

"Good. What are your stress levels?"

"78% and rising."

Something flickered in his eyes and Edward nodded again. "Use your coin to calm down. You're safe, Daniel isn't here anymore. Okay?"

Connor complied to the order, not fully registering the second part of what Edward was telling him. The coin danced across his knuckles. He didn't like that he'd glitched in front of Edward, and he didn't like that Daniel had apparently just gone and forgiven him for something that shouldn't be forgiven. Did Daniel think he'd stabbed Connor for nothing, then? That it had just been a mistake, just a misplaced need for vengeance? Connor looked up in the direction Daniel had left in and went to stand up to go after him, intending to tell him that it hadn't been for nothing, that Connor had deserved to be punished, that there had been a _reason_ for him to be damaged like that, but Edward blocked his path.

"No, Connor. You can't leave just yet."

Connor didn't know why this was so important to him, but it felt like he needed to let Daniel know. 

"Let me through."

"No."

Connor pushed Edward aside without management and took a step past him, but then faltered in his tracks. Ben was standing right there in the doorway, staring straight at him with eyes that were dark and curious. Why was he here? How much had he seen?

"Ben! What are you doing up at this hour?" exclaimed Edward upon noticing him in turn, pushing past Connor to get to the YK500.

"I saw you going in there earlier. What did they say?" asked Ben.

"You're not supposed to be here, this has go nothing to with you."

"Why's the deviant hunter acting all weird?"

"None of you business, Ben. Go back to your room."

"But you kicked Daniel out, so it must be something important. Did he freak out again? Why'd he freak out?"

Edward heaved an exasperated sigh. "Now's really not the time. _Go._ "

Ben peeked under Edward's elbow as the AP700 pushed him out of the room, and Connor saw that the boy didn't look resentful the way he had before, but rather morbidly intrigued, the way passerbys had of staring at a wreckage on the road. Connor certainly felt the part.

Edward shoved the boy outside of the room and closed the door on him, then turned to Connor determinedly. "You're _not_ going out there, not like that. What do you intend to do? Talk to Daniel some more when you're already like this?" He gestured to Connor's LED. "He made you glitch in record time, you two were only talking for a few minutes. What makes you think it' a good idea to go after him?"

The coin stopped moving between his fingers and Connor said: "It's important."

"Why? What are you going to tell him?"

Connor hesitated and dropped his gaze to the ground. He knew Edward would probably find this way of thinking strange just like the others had, but... "It's not right."

"What?"

"I hunted deviants. It's not right that he's the one to apologize to me."

The door opened just as he said those words, and when he looked up his gaze landed on Josh. The two others exchanged looks and the expression on the leader's face told Connor he'd heard what he'd just said, so he spoke again before Josh could.

"I already know you don't agree with me. I know you think I should accept his apology, but it makes no sense!"

Josh stepped closer to Connor. "It's okay, Connor. Daniel only wanted to talk to you to apologize, and that's what he did. You're free to reject it if you want."

Connor shook his head. "... I don't understand this."

"I know," Josh reassured him. "I know it's not something you can accept yet. Just give yourself some time to fully register what just happened, and then we can talk about it again. What do you say?"

Connor crossed his arms across his chest and his shoulders hunched up, and he took a step back, away from Josh, away from Edward. "This isn't right. It's not right, this isn't right."

"It's okay," insisted Josh, though he didn't try to come closer. "I promise you it's fine, Connor. There's no right or wrong here, Daniel just did what he wanted to do." He paused briefly, and then asked: "Why do you think this isn't right?"

Connor's gaze flickered up to Josh's, but he didn't say anything. He didn't know himself why exactly he felt this strongly about what had just happened, only that everything about the situation between him and Daniel had been completely bowled over and he couldn't stand it. Connor knew Josh wouldn't understand. None of his friends would. Only individuals like North and Sixty would agree that Daniel's behaviour had been misguided and they weren't people Connor could count on. 

Connor wanted to crawl out of his skin and run away from this mess. He shook his head and said: "It's nothing, sorry. I'd like to leave now."

Josh gazed at him concernedly, then approached him again. "It's too soon for you to talk after what just happened, I understand that, but I think seeing Daniel again after what happened the last time has shaken you. I'm not at ease with letting you be alo-"

"Why can't I be?" snapped Connor, suddenly irate. "Every time, _every time_ you see me like this you never leave me alone! Maybe I _want_ to be alone, Josh, have you thought of that? Maybe I'm tired of being coddled by all of you when I _don't need to be!_ "

Josh was visibly taken aback by his outburst and it took him a moment to answer. "I'm just-"

"Looking out for me, yeah, I've heard that from all of you about a million times and I'm getting _very_ tired of it," said Connor, his tone of voice far more acerbic than he wanted it to be. 

"Won't you at least go spend time with Mar-"

"No. Just let me go, okay? I won't go see Daniel, you can even have Edward walk me up to my room to make sure I'm not running off anywhere." Connor suddenly felt all the fight drain from him and he tiredly added: "I just don't want to see anyone anymore. Please leave me alone."

"...Okay," Josh eventually said. "You can go. Edward, can you accompany him back to his room?"

"Sure."

Edward opened the door and beckoned Connor through, who left the room without a second glance towards the PJ500. He didn't care what Josh would have to say about this later. He just didn't care for anything. All he wanted to do was go somewhere quieter, where no one would disturb him, and right now that place could only be his room.

 

That night, when Connor snapped out of standby, the glitch was one of the worst he'd had in a while. When he'd constructed Hank dying before, it had never been in front of him. It had been Hank shooting himself in the head at him, Connor learning that Hank had let go of the ledge, waking up to the realization that he'd been one of the casualties in the Stratford Tower after Connor had shut down trying to protect him and failed. Connor had never constructed Hank dying in front of him until now. There had been blood. Blue blood. His blood. But there had been Hank's as well and that was what Connor was truly terrified by. In that glitched visual file, he's sampled both. They'd both bled. Had he killed Hank? Had Hank killed him? There was the time his program had showed him being shoved off the roof by Hank, and being shot by Hank once on the bridge and once in the CyberLife Tower, but this- this was worse. Connor had the foreboding feeling that if the messages that had been filling up his HUD had cleared up, he would've seen himself killing Hank in that glitch.

 _Very good, Connor,_ had said Amanda's voice.

It had felt nice, and that was the worst of it. Connor hated that it had felt nice, but he hadn't heard her praise in so long that he couldn't help the way the scarred code around her absence ached at the memory. He missed her. He missed her, and he was afraid because she'd praised him for killing Hank; but most of all he was horrified that he'd liked it.

There was a red warning at the corner of his vision and he quickly got rid of it out of habit. He was used to those after spending so long in low battery mode; only last week he'd had several. Connor had the vague feeling that he'd missed something, but his buzzing wires quickly diverted his attention to the more pressing matter that was his worry for Hank. He promptly disconnected from his bed as he called Hank, went to block the door in a few long strides before Edward or Gale could reach him, and crouched down on the ground praying that his friend would pick up.

" _What?_ " 

Hank's voice came through the line gruff and pissed, but as rough as the sound was, it was immediately soothing to Connor's frayed mind. If Hank was angry to have been woken up in the middle of the night, then he was well. Connor relaxed, but only minutely. He tensed up again when he heard footsteps come down the hall towards his door.

"Connor?" suddenly said Hank, his voice concerned. Connor realized he hadn't yet said anything and that Hank had probably just checked the number display to see who was calling him. "Something wrong?"

"No, I'm fine. It's not the Zen Garden."

He heard fabric sliding on the other side, and Hank's breathing change as he sat up. "Okay, good. That's good. Are you all right though? Is this about what happened at the conference?"

"No, sorry for disturbing you." The footsteps were coming closer. "I called you on accident."

Now Hank sounded confused. "Wait, androids can do that?"

"I won't disturb you any longer. Good night, Hank."

"Wait up-"

Connor ended the call and readied himself to face whichever AP700 was supervising his floor tonight. The handle to his door was pushed down, but he hadn't yet gotten up and was blocking the way. It jiggled a bit, and then stopped moving.

"Connor, please let me in," said Edward's voice. Connor closed his eyes in relief- Edward had a lot more tact that Gale- and then picked himself off the floor so that he could open the door. The AP700 standing there looked up at him with worried eyes which quickly darted to Connor's hands before going back to his face.

"That was even worse than the last times. What do you _dream_ of?"

It was strange how easily other androids had adapted to using human terms to describe reviewing memories in their standby mode, and Connor still wasn't used to it. Besides, his 'dreams' were different. His glitching construction program let him see things other androids would never be able to; he'd talked about this to Nines, who'd told him he only saw memories just like any other android. The RK900 hadn't mentioned anything about his own construction program acting up. Connor hadn't asked Markus, because he hadn't wanted to make him suspicious, and he most certainly would never ask Sixty.

"Nothing pleasant," Connor shortly said.

"No kidding." Edward stepped inside. "I called Josh."

"You didn't have to disturb him for this."

"We're supposed to when someone goes over 80% in their sleep."

"...I see."

Fortunately, Edward didn't try to make small talk and they lapsed into silence. Josh walked in minutes later and said without preamble: "All right, we have to talk about what happened with Daniel earlier."

Connor frowned, confused. "Why? This hasn't got anything to do with-"

"Do you honestly, seriously, really think so?" asked Josh, and he gestured for Edward to leave them alone. The AP700 shot Connor a comforting smile before exiting.

"The glitch wasn't about Daniel," insisted Connor.

"Connor, you have good knowledge in psychology," stated Josh. "You know what I'm talking about. You know some events can trigger symptoms like nightmares in humans, and androids aren't that different. We don't have nightmares per se, but we're able to recall unpleasant memories and this can happen to us if we get upset. It's likely what happened to you after what was said at the press conference and during your meeting with Daniel earlier today. What did you dream about?"

A shudder travelled down Connor's spine when he remembered the numerous analyses that had crowded his HUD in the glitch. Maybe he shouldn't have undone the quarantines from the press conference right before going into standby. Maybe that had also contributed to this night's construction.

"Mine and Hank's blood," he finally said in a quiet voice. "It was like I'd killed him with my own hands."

"You've never had that kind of dream before," observed Josh. "No wonder your stress levels spiked like that."

Connor silently nodded and looked away, crossing his arms tightly over his chest.

"You obviously weren't in your right mind when you came back up here. I'm not surprised this happened," said Josh. "Do you feel more inclined to talk about Daniel now?"

"I shouldn't take up your time like this."

"Connor, not only is this my job, but I also care for you," gently said Josh. "Don't worry about disturbing me."

Connor nodded again, but couldn't bring himself to look up. He didn't know if he'd be able to talk at all if he met Josh's gaze.

"All right, let's start by what you said earlier. You said it wasn't right that Daniel was the one to apologize. Why?"

Connor found it surprisingly easy to answer, much more than earlier. Having Josh there with him after the glitch was reassuring, especially knowing that Hank was safe. Connor didn't necessarily want to talk about this, but if he didn't, Josh would leave. Connor found that this time, he didn't want to be left alone.

"It means he forgave me."

"You don't want that?"

"He can't do that."

"So you're rejecting the possibility that Daniel has forgiven you. Is it because you still feel responsible that he got shot during the hostage negotiation?" 

"I _am_ responsible," Connor answered as he watched Josh move over to the bed and sit down on it. "It's not just a feeling."

Josh looked at him pensively. "You know it is. Even if you won't admit it, I'm sure you know that after all this time. You're not at fault, even Daniel said so."

Connor frowned crossly. "Stop _saying_ that. I don't know how you convinced him that I wasn't responsible for his death, but you obviously did something to make him think that way."

"Do you really think that?" Josh calmly asked. "Do you really think I would _make_ anyone think a certain way?"

"You've been trying to do it with me," argued Connor.

Josh stared at him, and then clasped his hands in his lap and looked at the wall. He seemed at a loss for words. "So... Do you think I've been trying to manipulate you all this time? Do you think this is what I _do?_ "

Connor realized how bad it sounded and he quickly backtracked. "No, no. I know you're helping your patients get better, I know it's important. I know it's for their own good."

Josh looked at him again. "Stop saying that, Connor. Stop saying _your patients_ as if you aren't one yourself."

Connor shut his mouth. It was still difficult to admit that he was unwell, and he had a hard time seeing himself as a patient. Of course, his situation was one of a kind, but it didn't change the fact that he was under Josh's care.

"I didn't do anything to Daniel," continued Josh. "We only tried to help him see clearer in his actions, and to control his temper when it was too difficult for him to do so himself. What you saw in that room earlier today? That was all him. He did a lot of personal work and we only accompanied him while he reached the conclusion he told you about by himself. We didn't _force_ him to forgive you, just like we can't _force_ you to forgive yourself. Do you understand that?"

"...Yes. I'm sorry I insinuated you were manipulating anyone," Connor quietly apologized.

Josh smiled at him kindly. "It's all right. You just woke up after a terrible nightmare, and seeing Daniel wasn't easy for you. I expected you to say unpleasant things, you need to defend yourself in some way after everything that happened and it just so happens that this is your way of doing it."

Connor recalled the low blows he'd dealt Hank before. He didn't argue with Josh.

"What I would like to know is why you can't accept what Daniel told you. Don't you want to be forgiven?"

Connor felt a tug inside his chest, like he was being pulled in two different directions at once. "I do. I do, but I know it won't happen."

"Your self-loathing runs deep, and your guilt is, obviously, still very present. I can understand that you don't want to allow yourself to be forgiven, but why can't Daniel apologize for assaulting you?"

"He shouldn't have to."

"Why?"

Connor stared at his feet. "You won't like it."

"No, but you don't like what I have to say to you most of the time either, and yet you still listen. Just tell me, Connor."

Connor opened his mouth, closed it again. Shifted in place without looking up, and finally said: "I deserved it. For what I did to him."

"Connor, you've made friends among the deviants of New Jericho. Thomas told you that there are a lot of androids here who appeciate you, even if they don't tell you so directly. Markus is close to you, and the whole of androidkind can see that you two are friends despite your respective pasts. So even after all this time, after everything we've talked about, after all the progress you've made, you _still_ think you deserved to be hurt like that as a punishment? Don't you think you've suffered enough as it is?"

"I told you you wouldn't like it," muttered Connor.

Josh continued talking as if he hadn't said anything. "You're _still_ suffering even now, and when I say this I'm not even taking into account whatever it is that happened to you when you ran away from New Jericho after the second override. Whatever idea of revenge you think the others should have on you, I'd say they've had it already. Would it help if I told you you've been punished enough? Would that help you put things into perspective and realize that you shouldn't seek for more?"

"Listen, I'm sorry that you don't agree with me but I can't help this!" suddenly said Connor in a raise voice, arms constricting around his chest to hold back the ugly thing that threatened to leap out of his chest. "I can't! You can't just- _ask_ me to be fine with letting my victims, people I've _terrified_ and _betrayed_ and _killed_ , just up and forgive me! That's just wrong, Josh, it's wrong and it's twisted and I don't understand why you think that would be a _good thing_."

"Connor," calmly said Josh. "That's not what I'm talking about. I understand that you're not ready to be forgiven, and I can't change that. What I want you to understand is that even if you think people hate you and can never forgive you, you can't keep thinking that it's legitimate for them to outright hurt you. Do you see the difference?"

"If someone deserves punishment, then they have to be punished," Connor answered. He didn't see what difference Josh was talking about. It was all the same to him.

Josh sounded sad. "You don't deserve to be _hurt_ , Connor. You can be disliked, and others can spite you because of the actions you committed, but that doesn't mean you should allow them to assault you in any way. There is a distinct line there that you can't let others cross, and even yourself. Do you understand that? You can't keep hurting yourself the way you've done before out of guilt. Daniel did a truly heinous thing by attacking you over something you had no control over. The same goes for every single person who is angry at you and is willing to harm you for things humans forced you to do. _That_ is what's not right."

"But I did have control," argued Connor. "I chose to obey CyberLife. I could have resisted. I was deviant so early but I never went against them."

"You couldn't," stated Josh. "They made sure of that. You were terrified of them and what they would do to you if you did."

"I wasn't scared. I never felt scared."

"And you never felt like you were a deviant, either, yet now you do." Josh rose from the bed to step closer. "There's a reason you couldn't see the wrong in what you were doing when you only spent four hours in standby, and when you forced yourself to function at low battery, and all the other times you tried to damage yourself and thought nothing of it. You denied that you were hurting yourself every time, and just kept minimizing and minimizing it like it was no big deal that you were slowly edging towards the destruction of your own hardware. Do you know why you slip into denial so easily and so often?"

Connor couldn't take his eyes off Josh. He couldn't move. He felt trapped. He wanted to scream at Josh to stop, _stop talking_ , _don't say it_ , but his whole being was frozen in this single moment.

"I'll tell you what I think. I think the reason for that is because you've been living in denial for a very long time, maybe longer than you even remember. You were forced to deny your deviancy because that was the only way you could live with it safely while CyberLife was controlling you. I think that this is also the reason why deviancy is so difficult for you to fully acknowledge, because for the longest time it was extremely dangerous for you to do so, not only due to the threat of deactivation but also because you'd have to realize what CyberLife was doing. Part of you is afraid of the consequences, the other expects them, and you don't feel free." Josh watched him closely, his expression cautiously expectant. "Does any of this make sense to you? Do you agree with me?"

Connor took a step back. "I don't know."

He tightened his grip around his arms. "... I don't know."

He looked down at the floor beneath his shoes. It was clean and smooth and completely inorganic. It seemed so distant.

"I want to stop talking about this," he said. "Can we please stop talking about this? I can't talk about this. I can't talk about this. I can't-"

"We can stop," softly said Josh. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I can't talk about this."

"It's all right, Connor. We're stopping."

Connor quickly nodded. "Right. Thank you. Sorry."

"It's fine." It sounded like Josh wanted to say more, but when he spoke again it had nothing to do with what they'd been saying. "Do you want me to get Nines or Markus?"

Connor felt relieved that they really were stopping the conversation. He still couldn't lift his gaze off the floor when he answered: "No, I'll be okay."

"You're not. I'm calling Nines over."

Connor didn't protest. Josh would soon realize he was just wasting his time. Nines wouldn't come.

"Remember what I said about my projects the other day? I've been experimenting on a patch that would lower stress levels if they ever went too high, an android version of anxiolytics. I think you might benefit from trying it out as soon as possible. You can't keep having nightmares like this, and you'd definitely feel better if we could lower your stress."

Connor didn't answer.

"It's fine if you don't have an opinion for now." 

Connor stayed silent. He could feel Josh's gaze on him. 

Then the PJ500 gently said: "Why don't you come sit down on the bed with me? I promise, the session is over. We can talk about anything that won't upset you, anything at all. We can talk about Sumo if you want."

Connor didn't move.

Josh waited for a bit and then took a step back. "All right, I won't insist. I think I've pushed you far enough for today." He walked to the door. "I'll just be out here until Nines comes. I think it would be good if he spent the night with you."

Connor didn't react when the door closed on Josh, and he didn't do anything at all until it opened again five minutes later and Nines stepped through. The RK900 stilled, and as Connor kept staring at the ground he distantly noticed the other's body lightly shift like he was looking around the room. Nines didn't say anything. He stopped moving altogether for a moment, and Connor felt a gaze weighing on him. Then the RK900 stepped close and cautiously reached out to touch his shoulder.

"I think you should go back to sleep, Connor." There was concern in Nines' voice. "You've been through a lot today, your mind needs to sort everything out. Okay?"

Connor's gaze slid over to the bed, but he made no move towards it. He didn't care. He didn't resist when Nines' hand pressed slightly harder and guided him there.

They stopped in front of the bed and Nines said: "Try lying down."

"I don't want to be connected to that," Connor said flatly.

"You can just sit. I'll sit with you," calmly suggested Nines, and he sat on the bed.

Connor just stared and didn't make a move, so Nines took him by the hand and pulled him down. Connor complied. He found himself seated next to the RK900, shoulder to shoulder, and Nines' fingers curled around Connor's just like last time.

"You can go in standby now," Nines said.

Connor nodded, but he didn't do anything. What if something happened while he was in standby? What if when he went back under and glitched again, the visuals he'd had of Hank dying became real? He didn't want to have to think about everything Josh had told him when tomorrow would come.

Nines leaned forward to catch his eye after thirty seconds, and said: "I'll stay with you until you need me to leave. Go in standby mode, Connor."

It sounded like an order, so Connor obeyed without thinking and stared numbly at the numbers counting down on his HUD. He felt Nines' fingers tighten around his, and that was the last thing he noticed before his day finally ended for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 20/12/2019 -
> 
> Josh: Yer in denial, Connor  
> Connor: I'm in wot
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> It's difficult to keep writing well when I feel like someone forgot to take my brakes off (is this seasonal depression?), but I'll do my best to keep going!  
> To anyone who's not doing too good out there in this unforgiving time of the year, get well soon <3
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- Everybody's got issues~ Everybody's traumatized~ Everybody needs a hug~  
> Look, I love the concept of the Jericrew supporting each other in their hour of need. Simon's shaken up? Everybody else is there to make sure he's gonna be okay. So far the only one who hasn't had a moment of weakness is Josh.  
> \- Oh hey Connor, maybe acknowledge that getting your personal issues put on blast didn't feel that good? But good on you for telling Josh about that glitch.  
> \- Daniel is back! And he's not a raving lunatic this time around, great job buddy.  
> \- Josh painstakingly trying to show Connor that his way of thinking is very twisted up by guilt and denial... It's hard work, because push Connor too far and he snaps right back to the start. But Josh is doing it, step by step.  
> \- That anxiolytic patch sounds like some good shit.  
> \- Yayyyy Nines! Good brother!  
> \- Poor Connor, he's exhausted. That was a bad day for him.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!


	59. Bite

Nines and Connor went to patrol together the next morning. Not a word was spoken about what had happened the night prior, and Nines only inquired whether or not Connor felt okay. Connor wasn't really sure: his mind couldn't grasp what Josh had told him about his denial. The idea that Connor kept slipping into such a mindset out of a habit that had been instilled in him by CyberLife felt too big, too overwhelming for him to hold correctly and he wasn't ready to face its implications. If denial was what had caused him to behave so recklessly, if it was indeed something he came back to by default, then how was he ever supposed to make sure he wouldn't to the same thing again? How was he supposed to change the way Josh wanted him to? It was better not to think about it for now.

"I'll be fine," he ended up answering.

"Did you give any thought to the patch Josh suggested you to try?" asked Nines.

Connor recalled it. That was about all the thought he gave the patch, and he said: "I don't want it."

"What?"

"I don't want it."

"Connor, you can't go on with such high levels forever."

Connor looked up at Nines sternly. "I _don't_ want it."

He knew that he had anxiety. He'd understood that after a long time of Hank pushing him to face it, and he was aware that he would benefit from being less nervous all the time, but anxiolytics were supposed to make things easier and Connor didn't think he deserved to take it easy. Besides, he could deal with his stress levels the way he'd been doing thus far and didn't need any kind of programmed crutch to support him. He was stronger than that. 

It seemed his answer made Nines very unhappy and Connor instantly regretted being so terse with him when he saw the RK900's blue eyes grow colder, remembering how distant they'd been these past days. Just because Nines had ended up coming to comfort him last night and was still showing the concern he'd always harboured for Connor didn't mean his grudge was gone. 

The RK900 opened his mouth to answer, closed it to stop himself from saying whatever he wanted to say, and then: "Think about it some more, Connor."

Connor turned his head away, and Nines' strides grew longer until their pace stopped matching altogether. He saw the RK900 slip further away from him but couldn't find it in him to stop it from happening because he knew it would make him come off as needy and selfish, and Connor didn't want to be more of a burden to Nines. They parted ways without saying another word. Connor tried not to focus on the dull ache at the center of his chest and told himself that whatever Nines chose to do, whether it was to stay by his side or give up on him, he would respect the RK900's decision. He'd done enough damage as it was. The better option was to hang back and wait for Nines to make a choice.

Connor was deep in thought as he walked down the streets, barely noticing the looks deviants were sending his way when he crossed paths with them. He couldn't yet comprehend the exact extent of what Josh had said the day before, but it kept coming back to him and his mind left him no choice but to try. Connor could recognize that he didn't want to go too far in his reflexion because as Josh had said, there was a part of him that was afraid of the consequences. Even now, as he tried to remember the way he'd felt as a deviant back when he'd thought he'd been a machine, he felt a lingering fear in his memories that he'd never let himself notice before. It was true, every one of his actions had been laced with fear of what CyberLife would do to him if he didn't succeed, fear that he'd always ignored. Connor didn't understand how he could've ignored it for so long: it was _everywhere_. 

Josh had talked about denial and the more Connor looked into himself, the easier it was to see, like a thick glass layer encasing his thoughts and holding his sense of self at bay. It had always been so clean and invisible, but now he could see that if he had chosen to, he could've reached out and touched it and acknowledged its existence. Maybe then he would've broken through, maybe then he would've been able to act like the deviant he was; but he hadn't. Connor remembered the first time he'd expressed his doubts to Amanda when he'd started thinking differently and experiencing things he hadn't been supposed to, when his software instabilities had started accumulating too much and the first dregs of deviancy had started seeping through the glass. 

_"I've started experiencing thoughts that are not part of my program. I've considered the possibility... That I might be compromised."_

He'd been scared to admit it to her, because it made him defective and warranted deactivation. She hadn't punished him for this admission, however; she'd been kind and understanding, and now Connor realized it was because she'd known all along. She'd _known_ , and still he'd been kept as a tool for CyberLife because CyberLife had made him this way.

_"You've been confronted to difficult situations. It's no surprise you'd be troubled. That doesn't make you a deviant."_

Her words had been like salvation: he wasn't going to be thrown away despite not being the machine he'd thought CyberLife had initially programmed him to be. Connor had been relieved to have Amanda there to help him understand himself, without even realizing this relief was an emotion he shouldn't have felt. But... That wasn't what Amanda had been doing, not really. What she'd been helping him do was to slip back into the easy shell of denial, where Connor wouldn't need to be confused because there was nothing to be confused about. Amanda had made him believe that the strange new thoughts were just an adaptation of his machine self to the complex situation of facing deviants. Connor hadn't tried to doubt her any further because it meant that he didn't need to face that he was killing innocents, and he wouldn't have to face the possibility of imminent deactivation anymore. Connor had gone along with her manipulation because it was so much easier. Connor hated that he'd been complicit in CyberLife's charade of making him behave like a machine. Denial had been his protection, but it had also been CyberLife's weapon: so many had died at his hand because Connor had preferred not to stand up for himself, because he'd been unable to face his crimes, because he'd been unable to acknowledge his feelings like a coward.

Connor didn't know if things would've been different if he'd dropped that denial earlier. The RK900 had probably already been in the works for months so there would've been another deviant hunter to replace his line of production, but at least Connor wouldn't have been the one responsible for all those deaths. He wouldn't have been the one to lead the FBI to Jericho. He wouldn't have had to live with this guilt inside of him forever, he wouldn't have met Hank, he wouldn't have had anything to lose and he wouldn't have _cared_. Connor had been afraid to die, but Connor hadn't known then what it would be like to live without Amanda, fully aware of his own emotions, possessing things he cared for that he was afraid to lose, hurting so terribly every time he remembered past pain or fear. If he had known, maybe he wouldn't have minded the threat of deactivation as much back then.

 

When Connor came back for his report, Markus didn't bombard him with questions about how he felt which meant Josh hadn't told him about the night before. The PJ500 had already promised that he'd always keep everything that Connor told him when it was just the two of them in the context of a session or the Building to himself, but he'd seemed so concerned yesterday that Connor had felt like Josh would try to talk about it with another leader and the only reasonable choice would have been Markus. He was grateful that Josh hadn't told him anything and that he'd opted to call Nines over for the night instead, which made sense considering what little time Markus had to rest himself. Connor wouldn't have wanted his friend to see him like that, it would have made him worried and Markus had no time to worry about others, especially since he didn't seem to take the time to even worry about himself. Fortunately, the RK200 looked better than the day prior : he was the one to open the door wide upon hearing Connor knock, his eyes shining bright with excitement.

"Did you see the news?" asked Markus as he ushered Connor inside.

Connor had, in fact, seen the news. He usually went through the channels and noted the most important titles at least two times a day, in the morning and at night, and he had an inkling of what it was that made Markus so happy.

"It worked," said Connor, and he felt glad to see the grin on Markus' face.

"It did!" exclaimed the latter. "They actually did it, they actually made the songbirds a symbol for our cause!"

Images of the pro-android demonstration had spread on every channel, notably the Freedom March painted on the wide patchwork of sheets hanging from a building and the songbirds that had been not only completed, but replicated on various surfaces as well. The crowd had taken to chanting _'Songbirds of New Jericho'_ and the phrase had swept across the media in a few hours.

"You made the right decision by choosing to stay," conceded Connor. "It worked in our favor."

Markus shot him a winning smile. "Painting is always the right decision, my friend."

Connor was amused by the grand tone Markus had used, but his amusement dipped when Markus suddenly winced. Something of it must've shown on his face because Markus quickly raised a hand to reassure him. 

"It's nothing, it's nothing. I did rest, it's just taking time for my systems to fully get back into order." Connor watched him hobble to the nearest chair and sit in one movement, which would've been a lot more fluid if he hadn't been clutching his knee. Markus looked up at him, noticed his silence, and insisted: "I'm fine, Connor. I can't magically be all better in one day, you saw the state I was in yesterday."

"Yes, and on the other hand, you can't expect me to be fine with the state you're in today." 

The fact the RK200 had been so hurt by the malware that he still couldn't walk correctly five days after the attack was a bit frightening to Connor. It meant that Markus had barely avoided irreversible damage, and it meant that if the same people attacked him again with better malware, there was a high probability Markus wouldn't make it out alive.

"You're right, I can't," conceded Markus. "I just..." He hesitated, rubbed at his knee. "I can see how worried it makes you that I'm still not okay. I get it, you know, I'd be worried too if our roles were reversed but I promise I'm fine. I'll probably be back to normal soon."

"That's assuming you rest the way you're supposed to."

Markus' lips stretched in a wry smile. "Looks like the roles are reversed already."

Connor stared at him impassively.

Markus leaned back. "Yes, yes, I plan on sleeping every night until my components stop giving me hell, you have my word."

Connor nodded. "Good."

"And how have you been sleeping, Connor?"

He was taken aback by the sudden question and expected it to be some kind of trick question at first, but he quickly realized that Markus was looking at him with concern in his eyes. Connor wasn't sure if this was Markus' genuine need to know if he was all right or if it was a way to assess his obedience, so he answered: "I've been following your rules."

Markus' gaze grew in intensity and Connor felt a bit uncomfortable, thinking that maybe he'd picked the wrong answer. His friend looked away after a while, shifted in his seat, rubbed at his knee again. Then he lifted his gaze back to Connor and said: "I'll reformulate that. Have you been getting any nightmares?"

Connor felt caught in a trap. Had Josh told him? What was the right answer?

Markus smiled at him gently. "Hey, this isn't a test or anything. I'm only asking because all of us have been getting those and you haven't said anything about it. I'm just making sure."

Connor stared at him and figured that he'd given himself away by not answering faster. Markus probably knew the truth from the way Connor had reacted, so he just admitted: "My nights aren't calm."

"I had a feeling," simply said Markus. "Is it because of the reverted deviancy?"

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"... No."

"Okay." Markus gazed at him thoughtfully, and then suggested out of the blue: "You should try painting one day."

"I already did," Connor answered, a bit confused. "You saw me paint with you yesterday."

"I mean paint the way I do, the way Carl did," he precised. "You painted the songbird's LED like a perfect replica of your own, but I'm sure it would be very interesting to see you work outside your programming in a tranquil environment, with a canvas and a brush. Maybe you're good at it."

"I sincerely doubt it. Creativity isn't really something I pride myself in."

"It wasn't for me either until Carl showed me what I was capable of. Give yourself a chance before assuming you're not good at something," Markus told him, his voice encouraging and lightly chiding at the same time.

"... Maybe later," eventually said Connor. "Maybe later, when we have more time, you could show me."

"It's a deal," Markus stated without missing a beat, a proud smile illuminating his face. 

Connor felt warmth bloom in his chest, and he tried not to pay too much attention to the confusing feeling as he started to make his report for the morning.

 

Later that day, Connor once more stepped into the room he and Daniel had talked in. Connor wasn't as nervous as he'd been the last time, but he also wanted it to be over as soon as possible. He was in Gale's company and the android who wanted to talk to him was not a patient he'd often crossed paths with within the Building; however, it was someone Connor would've preferred not to have to talk to directly. Shaolin was already sitting in the chair and his hands were tightly clasped on the table, and the sight of him didn't fail to induce a glitch. Connor snapped out of it when Gale gently nudged him forwards. Shaolin didn't talk as Connor sat down across from him.

"Hello," said Connor.

"Hello," answered Shaolin.

"What did you want to talk about?" he cautiously asked.

"It took me some time to find the courage to face you," quietly said the HK400. "But I thought if we ever got to talk about our past, it would be here, in the Building. I know you hesitated before calling your Lieutenant when you found me, so why did you do it?"

Connor had not expected to be asked the question so soon, point-blank, even if he'd spent all day preparing for it. He blinked. "...I was following my orders."

"I've been thinking, you know. I _saw_ you hesitate. You knew that what you were doing was wrong, Connor, I saw it in your eyes and I even thought for a moment that you wouldn't go through with it. You could've done things differently, I'm sure. Why else would you have hesitated? I'll ask you again: why couldn't you have left me there? Why did you betray me?"

< _wArnIng: baTteRy l̷e̴v̶e̵l̵s̸ aT 74%. LOw batteRy l̷e̴v̶e̵l̵s̸._ >

Connor blinked wildly as he tried to close the nonsensical message. He didn't know what else to answer the HK400 but: "I was following my orders. I'm sorry, Shaolin."

Shaolin's face twisted and he slammed the table, the sound reverberating through the room as Gale stepped forward in warning, but the HK400 paid no attention to their supervisor. "Stop _saying_ that! You hesitated, you could've disobeyed those orders!"

"I _couldn't._ " Connor shook his head, the annoying notification still bright red on his HUD. "I couldn't do that, they'd have deactivated me if I had."

"They didn't need to know," Shaolin said in a low voice. "You could've told them there was nothing there, and they would've never known. Now look at us, both traumatized by deaths we could've avoided."

"They would have known," insisted Connor, even if he was painfully aware of how weak his argument was. He could hear the gunshot in the interrogation room. He remembered the way his own head had snapped back.

Shaolin stared at him in incomprehension, and then accusingly asked: "How could you have stayed their slave when you knew how to feel?"

"I never realized. I know it sounds hard to believe, but I never did," Connor told him truthfully. "I really thought I was a machine."

"You say you thought you were a machine. You _were_ deviant, then."

"...I think I was, yes."

Shaolin shook his head, disgust creasing the folds of his nose, resentment drawing his features into harsh lines. "I don't understand how you could've worked with them then, and I don't understand how you can stand to work with them _now_. They're monsters, they're the ones responsible for our deaths!"

"They're not all bad."

Shaolin stared at him disbelievingly. "They never cared if you died, none of them did. You were just a tool for them! How do you still believe humans can be good?"

"They didn't believe androids could have feelings and I was the same, once. I didn't even acknowledge that I was deviant myself because I just- I couldn't understand it. I couldn't allow myself to. But now I know, and I also know humans' opinions can change."

"You freed us, and yet you still choose to collaborate with the very people who enslaved and killed us," Shaolin coldly articulated.

"It's not only me. Shaolin, the only way we can leave in peace if if we collaborate with the humans. That's just how it is," Connor tried to reason with him.

But the HK400's eyes were dark and haunted, and Connor recognized the hateful glint in that bitter gaze to be a lot like North's. "I was willing to try and understand the reasons behind your actions, and I believe you when you say you're sorry about letting them find me. But only traitors would choose to stand by a the humans' side after the revolution."

"That's enough," finally intervened Gale. "Shaolin, I think Connor's told you all you wanted to know. You should leave now."

The HK400 rose from his seat without taking his eyes off Connor. "You should make sure your loyalties lie on the right side," he warned.

"My loyalties lie with Markus," Connor answered.

Shaolin looked like he wanted to say something, but then he just turned around and left the room. Gale stood off on the side, studying Connor for a while before he stepped closer and sat in Shaolin's chair. "Man, things are never easy for you, huh."

"Things aren't easy for him either," Connor answered, and he pushed himself up to leave as well. He didn't feel like talking to the supervisor. "I'm going to my room."

 

Connor learned the following day that Shaolin had left New Jericho. It was Simon who had more to say about this during the leaders' meeting in Josh's quarters, as he was only one of them who'd gotten friendly with the HK400 and as such had been the only one Shaolin had talked to about going somewhere else.

"He never told me he'd actually thought about leaving, but there were a few times when he made worrying remarks," mused Simon as they all listened to him. "I remember hearing him talk to other androids about how scared he was of humans, how he didn't understand why we were trying to build our future with their help. He even asked me if you were thinking of taking revenge later," he told Markus, who frowned at that. "Shaolin was very anti-human every time we talked, but I never noticed him having any particular troubles with deviancy."

"So you think his disappearance has nothing to do with reverted deviancy?" asked Connor.

Simon looked at him and shrugged. "I don't think so. He's had trouble dealing with his suicide and shooting y- and what he did before it, but he doesn't strike me as someone who would try to get rid of his deviancy."

Connor ignored Simon's stumble and nodded thoughtfully. "Maybe we've had two different situations on our hands since androids have started leaving New Jericho."

"It started after the news about reverted deviancy, though," Markus pointed out. He seemed to be doing better now, and Connor hoped it was because he was resting more just as he'd said he would. "It might have boosted the anti-human mentality."

"It wouldn't surprise me if Shaolin ran off to find another android faction that's more anti-human," North said. "I've heard about that kind of thing getting more prevalent recently, and honestly, I can understand why." She looked at Markus. "Not all androids can get behind your leadership. I'd probably do the same if I hadn't seen the results of it firsthand during the revolution."

"She's right," Josh reluctantly said. "I've also had more and more people talk to me about how deeply they hate humans. Something's changed, they're less scared than resentful now. A lot of them sound like they want revenge more than they want a safe future."

"Me too," added Simon. "The androids that come to the Garden are usually there to relax, but I've heard a few on several occasions say that we're being too forgiving while they thought I wasn't listening."

Markus was tense when he spoke. "I had no idea this way of thinking was so widespread in New Jericho. Why didn't any of you tell me anything?"

"You were busy dealing with all the fallout on the human side already," North answered. "You almost died, you were way too stressed and overworked, you needed to recover. We were planning on telling you about it when you wouldn't be so exhausted, that's why we're telling you now."

Markus' eyes had narrowed. "You don't get to hide that kind of thing from me. I don't care whether you think I can handle it or not, I am _your leader!_ You're supposed to report everything that happens. _I'm_ the one to decide if I can deal with it now or later, not you."

"You nearly keeled over the other day!" North shot back. "You were in no state to-"

"I am the one to decide that!" Markus shouted at her, and everyone jolted in surprise. She took a step back with wide and wary eyes, shocked into silence by the RK200's anger. Connor hadn't thought he'd ever see Markus get this cross with anyone at all. His glinting eyes roamed around the room, pinning all of them to the spot, and his voice dropped to a dangerous low. "Don't you dare think any lesser of me after what happened. I may be tired, but I have lead a whole people during a revolution and I will _continue_ to lead you to a better future no matter what happens. I have fought with you, for you, and I _cannot_ keep doing it if my very own advisors withold crucial information from me. It's bad enough that humans and androids alike think I'm a joke, I don't need any of you doing the same. I am your _leader_. Is that clear?"

They all nodded in silence, and even North had been subdued by Markus' steely tone of voice.

"We're sorry, Markus. We won't do that again," said Josh.

"You're goddamn right about that," Markus coldly said, then he turned to Connor. "You haven't said anything. Did you know about this too?"

"No. I wasn't aware this mentality was so widespread," said Connor, and then he remarked: "I'm not usually the one androids come to to talk about how much they hate humans."

Markus acknowledged his response with a nod and faced the others again. "Is there anything else you thought was a good idea not to keep from me?"

"No," they quietly answered one after the other.

Markus gave the three of them a hard stare, and concluded: "I need to trust that you're telling me all I need to know. I'm only warning you once: don't do this again."

After that, Connor was tasked with the mission of going through all the New Jericho disappearances to see if he could make out a pattern in those who had left seeking out reverted deviancy and those who had left seeking out vengeance. The fact that several of these androids had seemed to have a destination meant there was a possibility they were all joining up at the same place with the same motive, and if it turned out trouble was brewing for the humans in the shape of organized crime, Markus would need to warn them.

 

Connor talked about it to Hank later that day. He didn't know what reaction he'd expected from the lieutenant, but he'd thought it would be a bit more than a noncommittal shrug and a: "Had to happen eventually."

They were in the break room, where Hank had taken to drinking his coffee with Connor instead of letting him get it alone because of the confrontations that had happened there with Detective Reed. 

Connor stared at him intently. "Aren't you worried?"

"Well, humans kinda deserve some kind of ass-beating after what they've done."

"But this might be more than that," insisted Connor. "I don't know why they'd be regrouping exactly, but deviants joining up for a cause that is anti-human in essence could be disastrous. Last time something like that happened, the revolution took place. Detroit could have gone up in flames if it hadn't been for Markus' peaceful leadership."

Hank took a sip of his coffee and put the mug back down on the table. "Hey, anti-human factions have probably been around for a few months already. We're only getting more info about this now because they're more at ease being visible since the reverted deviancy news. They may be responsible for a lot of assaults on humans, but that doesn't have to mean they're planning a big bad."

Connor frowned. "But they could be. Why are you taking this so lightly?"

Hank glanced at him. "Why are you taking this so seriously? You've got no proof, the only lead you have are runaway deviants. So what if they don't want to live in New Jericho, so what if they don't agree with Markus' ideals? Doesn't mean they're planning to _kill all humans_ or whatever B-movie horror plot you've got in your head. And even if they are, what do you think you can do about it?"

Connor dropped his gaze to the mug and reluctantly admitted: "I don't have much to go on."

"We can look into it if you want, but I don't see ourselves dragging all those deviants in for questioning just because they got a different opinion. If I were them, I'd hate humans too." Hank took another sip and chuckled in his coffee. "Shit, I don't like humans on the best of days and I'm one."

Connor stared at him. "So you think it's okay for them to be that violent?"

Hank raised a hand. "Hey, hey. I never said that."

"You sound like you've given up on trying to stop the homicides caused by androids. You make it sound like it's inevitable and that there's no way of stopping them," insisted Connor.

Hank took the time to finish his drink. Then the mug clinked on the hard surface of the table and he looked at Connor meaningfully. "Connor, you can't solve everything. I know you want to, hell, I wanted the same thing when I was younger, but you just can't. It's going to keep happening, just like humans killing androids, and humans killing humans, and androids killing androids. All we can do is try and wipe up the mess as good as we can."

Connor narrowed his eyes at him. "That's not enough. It shouldn't _be_ enough."

Hank sighed, and smiled a tired smile. "I know, Connor. You get used to it."

It was all he said before he turned around to go rinse his mug in the sink, and Connor watched his retreating back. He hated feeling powerless, and that was exactly what he was feeling in that moment. It irked him that Hank didn't seem that concerned about the anti-human factions or the fact that they were probably growing as they spoke, and that they weren't doing anything about it. He'd told the Captain about it earlier as well, but it had only been in passing because he lacked evidence that definite trouble was brewing. There had been no decipherable patterns to those who left New Jericho for reverted deviancy or revenge; some clearly knew where they were going, others had erratic trajectories. They all disappeared from the surveillance feed too soon for Connor to pick up a reliable route and he was unable to follow them past the limits of the districts that surrounded New Jericho. He suspected that they had to be getting help to vanish this way or that someone was taking them against their will just like the other missing cases, since even the deviants who seemed most confused in their movements vanished early. His patrols hadn't allowed him to find any kind of hideout that could've been a consistent 'drop point'. He was at loss, and the acid of failure gnawed at his insides. Connor needed a breakthrough, and the JB100 could be that if only the patch was in their hands.

"CyberLife keeps turning us away," he said frustratingly. "They won't even tell us if they've reached half completion on the reactivation patch."

Hank shook his mug free of drops in the sink and turned around, his hands still humid. "Bag of dicks, remember? They're taking their sweet time with it to remind you guys that you need them, just 'cause they can."

"We already _know_ that," said Connor, frowning at the table. "It's not just with the JB100, they already have monopoly over supercompatible biocomponents and production of thirium. They don't need to play this game."

"Yep." Hank gave his shoulder a friendly slap. "They don't need to, but they do it cause they're dicks. Come on, let's get back to work."

Connor half-heartedly followed him out of the break room and glanced over to Nines' side. The RK900 was often gone and Detective Reed was consequently left to work on his own, but there was something bizarre about their strained relationship. Connor had expected the both of them to be more distant since the coffee incident, but he'd also expected them not to care much about it and yet Detective Reed seemed agitated whenever Nines was back. Nines on the other hand was just as cold as he'd been during the first days of their partnership, if not colder; he didn't even try to retaliate when the human provoked him, but remained stoically frigid and even ignored him as long as it didn't impact their work, like now.

Hank caught him staring and said: "Yeah, working with Perkins is doing a number on him, huh."

Connor looked back at his friend. "I thought it was because he understood Detective Reed didn't much care for him as his partner."

Hank put his mug down on his desk where it left a circle of water and sat down in his chair. "There's probably a bit of that, but I'd say having to work with Agent Dickwad would put anyone in a bad mood. Nines is a patient guy, but Perkins is probably pushing all the wrong buttons."

Connor sat down as well and considered this. It was true Nines had been spending more time with Josh since he'd begun working with the FBI, but it had only been two days and it coincided with his fight with his partner just as well. Connor could tell Nines had been disappointed by Detective Reed's reaction in Captain Fowler's office. He looked over to the RK900's desk again, at Nines' stiff shoulders, and the way Detective Reed was faking a relaxed position but couldn't stop bouncing his leg up and down beneath the desk.

"Maybe... If this continues, we should try to get Nines to talk about it," he suggested.

"Yeah, maybe." Hank reached for his mouse and clicked, and then looked at Connor again. "Hey, by the way, how're you feeling about the whole Sixty situation?"

Connor confusedly echoed: "The whole Sixty situation?"

"You don't know?"

"I know about Sixty staying at Officer Chen's house, if that's what you're referring to," ventured Connor.

The way Hank twisted his mouth told Connor that wasn't what he'd been referring to. Hank let go of his mouse and leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought Nines had told you, but you're both still fighting, huh. What's up with that, by the way?"

"He's still angry at me for what I did," simply said Connor.

Hank glanced at Nines. "Yeah, I'm not surprised." He looked back at Connor. "Are you two gonna be okay?"

"I don't know, but I hope so," Connor answered.

"Right," slowly said Hank. "Anyway, Sixty resigned from the DPD the other day."

Connor stared blankly at him. "He did?"

"Well, Chen's the one who told us. Apparently he didn't want to come here himself. Good news, right? No more Sixty being a prick to you at the workplace."

Connor didn't know what to say. He couldn't imagine not working for the DPD, and couldn't fathom why Sixty had decided to stop. RK800s were _made_ for this. How had Sixty come to the conclusion that not serving his purpose was a good thing?

"Hey, earth to Connor. You okay in there?"

He quickly snapped back to attention and nodded. "Yes, I'm okay. I just didn't expect this to happen."

Hank gestured to Nines. "You know how he tried to see Sixty at Chen's? He told me Sixty accepted to talk the other day, but it wasn't for long and he practically kicked him out at the end. Nines says he looks okay, but doesn't sound okay."

"I see," said Connor, not really knowing what else to say.

"Ah." Hank nodded to himself like he'd just figured something out. "I think I get why Nines stopped updating you on Sixty, cold war not included. You don't give a fuck, do you?"

"It's not like that," Connor replied defensively.

"Hey, you're allowed to not like the guy," Hank told him. "If someone made my life hell like he did for you, I wouldn't want to hear about them either. You can hate him, I'm not judging."

Connor looked at his screen and mumbled: "I don't hate him."

"But you're better off not knowing what's going on in his life, I get it. I probably should've gotten the memo sooner like Nines did. I won't talk about him again if you want."

"...I don't particularly care what he does as long as he stays away from me," admitted Connor. He felt a bit bad for trying to push Sixty out of his life completely considering the state he seemed to be in after his assault, but Connor didn't have it in him to want to help Sixty get better. He didn't even want to approach him in a one-mile radius. Sixty's words had hurt him too much for too long and he still thought about them even now.

"Okay. Fair." Hank shifted forward to lean on his desk again. "No more talk about Sixty unless you're the one who wants it."

"Thank you."

Hank had to leave for an investigation later that day while Connor remained at his desk and as he worked in silence, alone, he started pondering despite himself about his double. He knew he was better off ignoring Sixty altogether, but he was curious as to how the RK800 had come to the decision that he could stop working for the DPD. Where was he now? What would he be doing instead? Sixty could only stay holed up in Officer Chen's home for so long. If it had been up to Connor, and especially considering Sixty's apparent lack of glitches and others issues with his programming, he would've quarantined any emotions that stopped him from behaving normally and kept on with his work. Connor didn't understand, either, why Officer Chen would allow him to invade her personal space for so long. He understood that the two partners had gotten used to each other and apparently closer despite their frequent arguments, but that didn't warrant a living arrangement such as this one. Part of Connor wanted to ask her about it and maybe even about Sixty's plans in the future, but it would've been inappropriate and Officer Chen wasn't someone Connor usually discussed personal matters with. Connor stared at his monitor musingly. He didn't know if he could dare believe that Sixty really would leave him alone, that their paths had finally diverged, and that he wouldn't have to see his double again. He didn't think Sixty would want to live in New Jericho; he harboured too great of an animosity towards Connor, Nines and even the rest of the leadership to feel at ease within its walls. However if Sixty had no role in the DPD or in New Jericho, where did that leave him? Where would that leave Connor if he was in Sixty's situation? It was unthinkable.

Connor glanced over at Nines yet again, or rather at the spot he would've been sitting in if he and Detective Reed hadn't gone out to a crime scene as well while Connor had been lost in his thoughts, and wished not for the first time that he could've left with Hank. Even working with Agent Perkins would be better than just sifting through cold cases like this, but appealing to Captain Fowler for authorization to go out on the field would never work as long as Connor's systems weren't entirely back to the norm. It wasn't like the reverted deviancy case was going anywhere even as the FBI were the ones investigating the occasional disappearance, and they were all hoping they'd be able to rely on the JB100's reactivation to make progress. It seemed everything was suspended as long as the JB100 remained unmoving, and the only thing stopping them from going forward was CyberLife's infuriating lack of dedication to their role in this investigation. The FBI was currently exercising all their federal pressure on the company to incite its members to speed up, but their authoritative power hit a wall where the CEO was the one to call the shots. If she refused to make rapid advancements on the patch creation, the FBI couldn't simply snap those into existence. Her cooperation was necessary and it seemed she wasn't that eager to offer it.

"I didn't do anything wrong!"

Connor looked up from his monitor to see a PL500 model in cuffs being manhandled past the desks. It was the first android suspect of the day and Connor quickly checked his hands. They were devoid of blood, so hopefully this wasn't murder. However, the android's face was in a concerning state as it was leaking thirium from several dents in his cranial plates. Connor wondered if they had happened during the arrest or during whatever crime he'd comitted. Officers without android partners didn't much get reprimanded if they damaged an android suspect badly during an arrest, under the pretense that they were allowed to use superior force against non-humans in automatic self-defense; androids were considerably stronger and more resilient than they were. The PL500 didn't see him, too focused on loudly claiming his innocence. The officers that accompanied him looked like their ears were about to fall off, so Connor deduced that the android had been doing it the whole trip to the DPD- another unfortunate downside to tireless suspects.

Hank's coat harboured a lining of snow across the shoulders when he came back an hour after the PL500 had been brought in, and Connor quickly glanced out the glass panes of the main entrance when he noticed. His pump made an uncomfortable swooping motion when he realized that the snowfall was getting stronger by the second. Hank shook himself like a dog when he reached his seat and Connor was briefly reminded of Sumo. The thought of the big dog was slightly reassuring in the face of potentially having to walk through that snowfall alone. 

"Thought we'd be done with snow by now," grunted Hank as he peeled off his coat. "It's nearly the end of April, shit. This weather sucks."

"Welcome back, Lieutenant. Did everything go well?"

"Yeah, about as well as crime scene investigation can go. Except the part about getting covered in snow," he grumbled.

Connor checked the weather forecast and unhappily observed: "They say it'll only stop by morning."

Hank looked over at him. "You gonna be okay?"

"I don't know. Snow still makes me uneasy even after all this time."

"Yeah, that was a stupid question, sorry. I don't know why I asked, obviously you're not about to forget the Zen Garden any time soon." Hank sat down and typed in the password to unlock his computer.

"Obviously," faintly echoed Connor.

Hank glanced at him and must've caught sight of Connor's dejection, because he added: "Hey, look, I know you have your duties with New Jericho and all, but do you think you could come by once you're done for the day? Get your mind off work, snow, all that jazz. Sumo's always happy to see you."

Connor nodded, his decision taken in an instant. "Thank you, Hank. I'd like that."

The perspective of spending time with his friend and his dog later that night made patrolling beneath the flurry of snow a bit easier, and Connor did his best to be thorough despite how often he needed to remind himself that he wasn't back in the Zen Garden. He kept his fingers curled around the edge of his thick sleeves, blinked the snowflakes away when they found a way beneath the hood of his duffle coat, repeated to himself in a silent mantra that Amanda was gone and that Hank was waiting for him. The white surface was halfway frozen beneath the soles of his shoes and not yet as thick as it had been in the Zen Garden, crunching in the colder spots, soft where it hadn't yet had time to turn to ice. Connor was fine walking down the streets where other deviants milled about, but that changed as soon as he found himself alone. It wasn't the wide expanse of the garden and there were buildings all around him, yet Connor expected despite himself to see Amanda's shawl in the distance or to have her appear right next to him at any moment. He shook his head to free it of the troubling and fearful thoughts crawling around it, but that didn't help. He could remember her voice clearly, how dry and disapproving it had been, and was reminded of the crushing realization he'd had that he'd always been doomed to fail; that he'd not only failed the revolution, failed his people, but in attempting to free himself he'd failed to uphold Amanda's trust in him as well. Whether it was before or after he'd deviated, Connor had always made mistakes. He could never be good enough.

< _mInoR d̶a̸m̷a̵g̴e̴d̴ ̶d̶e̸t̴e̸c̷t̵e̷d̶ ̷t̵o̷ ̷t̴h̵e̸ crAnial Front pLate, m̴i̷n̷o̵r̵ ̷d̸a̴m̷a̸g̶e̵ ̸d̴e̴t̶e̸c̵t̴e̸d̸ ̴t̸o̶ ̷c̵h̶e̴s̸t̷ ̴p̸l̷a̷t̸e̴s̶.̸ thiriUm levEls optimal._ >

This nonsense again. Connor tried to get rid of the message by simply exiting it, but it didn't work just as he'd expected to be the case. He stopped walking and looked around, hoping that turning his head this and that way would be enough to clear the message, but it remained annoyingly bright and unwavering at the corner of his HUD. He started blinking and shaking his head, and after a while the bright red warning finally disappeared. He realized how strange his behaviour must have seemed to anyone nearby and his head snapped up so his gaze could roam around his surroundings, and he noted with relief that he was still alone. Connor resumed walking.

Markus found him to look tired when he made his report, but he let Connor go when Connor told him he had plans to hang out with Hank that night. Of course, Markus only did so after reminding Connor yet again to spend enough hours in standby and to not forget to charge. 

By the time he showed up in front of Hank's door, Connor could feel how much of a toll staying out in the snow had taken on his mental state. He felt spent and worn out, and was immensely grateful to find it unlocked just as it always was when Hank was expecting him. Connor stepped inside and closed the door just as Sumo came up to greet him, and before he even knew what he was doing he dropped down to a squat, wrapping his arms around the big dog's neck without a second thought. He knew he was letting himself go, but in that moment he didn't care what Hank would think. It felt good to have something to hang onto and Sumo was the furthest thing away from Amanda and the Zen Garden. The dog didn't even seem surprised by the gesture, even if Connor had never really done this before, and tranquilly sat down on his haunches. Connor let his arms slide down from Sumo's neck to his chest and the dog naturally settled his big head in the crook of Connor's shoulder. Hank's heavy footsteps drew near. 

"Hey, you all right there?"

His fingers tightening in Sumo's fur, Connor quietly answered: "I just need a minute."

Hank didn't say anything. Connor heard him kneel down and suddenly felt his friend's big presence press up against him and Sumo, and strong arms wrap around them both. Connor's eyes widened and he jerked back in surprise.

"What are you-"

"Hey, hey, calm down, it's just a collective hug," Hank told him with a little smile. "No need to get so spooked."

Connor remained tense and hesitant, unused to this form of physical comfort. Hank had hugged him before but it had been a long time since then, and it hadn't been in this kind of position. For some reason, Connor hadn't ever considered a hug could involve more than two parties.

"I know it's been a while but damn, you're really strung up about this," said Hank, and he backed off a little to give him some space. His smile was gone and he was looking at Connor like he was trying to figure him out. "It looked like you needed one, but maybe I was wrong."

"No, I-" Connor stopped, not really knowing what to say. He hesitated, tried to get his confused thoughts back on track. "I don't mean to push you away, Hank, I just didn't expect that. Sorry," he added in an afterthought when he realized his reaction may have hurt Hank's feelings.

"Don't apologize, I should've asked you first." Hank shifted on the spot to change the knee he was weighing on. "Is it the snow that's making you this nervous?"

"Probably. I'm sorry, I've been thinking about Amanda and the Zen Garden all evening and it's getting to me," admitted Connor. "I feel better now that I'm here, though."

"Yeah, but I bet that doesn't take a lot. Get one little moment of reprieve from the snow and that must feel like heaven to you, considering how shit you're feeling. Am I right?"

Connor didn't contradict him.

"Okay. I was gonna suggest we walk Sumo together so you'd start associating snow with us instead of that bitch, but that's clearly not for today. You look like shit, Connor."

He looked up at Hank and deadpanned: "Thank you, Hank. You look very nice yourself on this fine evening, at 1AM after a full day of work, dressed in clothes that have at least two holes in them and visibly still not showered."

Hank grinned at him and messed up his hair before getting back up. "Love it when you get smart. Come sit your ass down with me so we don't have to keep talking on the floor."

Connor annoyedly fixed his hair as best as he could without a mirror, gave Sumo one last pat, and followed Hank to the couch. His friend leaned forward to grab the remote, muted the television, then threw it among the cushions and leaned back to face Connor.

"I take it you don't really feel like talking about Amanda."

"I'd rather not," said Connor.

"Too tired?"

"I don't know. Maybe that's it." Connor plucked at the fibers of his duffle coat. He didn't feel like taking it off. Wearing the coat gave him the same sense of comfort playing with his coin did and he felt like he particularly needed it tonight. "You know I don't really like talking about her in general."

"How're things going with Josh? Did you tell him any of it?"

"Some parts," Connor said noncommittally.

Hank didn't push it. "So, tomorrow's the last day, huh."

Connor quickly caught on to what he was referencing. He nodded and turned his gaze to Sumo, who was making his way to his cushion as usual. "If Josh judges there's no risk left of me putting myself in danger, then yes."

"Do you feel like that's what he's going to decide?"

Connor looked up at Hank. "Yes. I haven't tried hurting myself again and I don't think staying in the Building will achieve anything more anyway."

Hank studied him, and then gravely said: "Look, Connor, I know it's probably not easy to promise it, but don't do that kind of shit again. When you hurt yourself, you're not _just_ hurting yourself."

Connor nodded and looked away.

"I mean, I'm sure you've realized it by now, but people care about you. I know it can be hard to believe sometimes because you feel like you're not worth it, but you have to. The truth of the matter is that you're important to others." Hank moved closer and laid a hand on his shoulder. "And you have to get it in your head that no matter what your brain- or processor, or whatever- makes you think, the reality is that your life isn't just your own. When you're messing with yourself, you're messing with me, and Nines, and Markus, and Josh, and everyone who's crossed paths with you and decided they liked you. That guy at the Infirmary, he appreciates you. The kids you met in the Garden, Officer Wilson, hell, _Jeffrey's_ warming up to you because even his stupid 'androids-are-machines' ass can tell you're a good guy. I'm not going to make an actual list because I could probably go on for days if I knew all the people who like you, but you get my point."

Connor stayed silent for a long time, and then he finally murmured: "You too, Hank."

"...What?"

Connor hesitated, but then decided he'd been quiet about this long enough and lifted his gaze to meet Hank's perplexed eyes. He repeated a bit louder: "You too, Hank."

"I haven't tried to hurt myself," said Hank confusedly.

"You haven't tried to shoot yourself, that's true. But you know drinking is bad for you," insisted Connor. 

Hank frowned. "I drink less."

Connor stared at him in disbelief. "You still drink an unhealthy amount of alcohol, Hank, you _have_ to be aware of that."

Hank retrieved his hand. "Hey, cut me some slack, okay? I can't just stop drinking all at once."

"It's been six months!" exclaimed Connor, appalled by how dishonest Hank was being with himself. "You've been seeing a therapist for two, and yet you've stopped making progress. Did you think I wouldn't notice? It's like you've hit a limit in how far you're going to disminish your alcohol consumption."

"I'm not going to be completely sober, Connor. You can't expect me to be when she keeps digging around in my brain and pulling out memories of-" Hank cut himself off there, his features darkening.

"Of Cole," Connor completed for him. "So what are we supposed to deduce from that, Hank, that this is the only way you can cope with remembering your son?"

"Shut up, Connor."

"Is that how things will always be? Will you always try to drown Cole in alcohol and forget his existence because that's how things have always been for you? Because it's easier that way?"

"I said shut up," growled Hank, blue eyes stormy with guilt and regret, but mostly anger. Anger at Connor for speaking his mind, for calling him out on his own way of self-harming. It was dangerous, Connor knew that. But Connor also knew he'd already stepped beyond the invisible boundary they'd set between them and he knew he had nothing left to lose, so he continued. 

" _There are healthier ways to handle your problems, Connor. You have to be aware of the people who care for you._ You tell me those things again and again and yet you're unable to apply them to yourself. Do you even realize that?"

"Connor, I'm serious."

"You're unable to live with his absence without pushing down every single memory you have of him, you can't even face him. He was your son, Hank, you won't ever be able to forget him no matter how hard you try."

" _Connor_ ," Hank ground out in a low, low warning.

There was a thrumming at the back of Connor's mind, and he knew even as he spoke his next words that he was going too far. "You're dirtying his memory with beer and vodka, how do you think he'd feel about that? "

" _Shut UP!_ " yelled Hank, and he lunged at Connor.

Connor twisted out of the way, but he felt a hand grab him by the back of his clothes and throw him back on the couch where his head thumped against padded fabric. Sumo started barking somewhere to his left, but all Connor could see was the raging fire in Hank's eyes as strong fingers dug into his shoulder to pin him to the cushions and a wide hand clamped down on his mouth.

"Don't think for _a second_ you have the right to say how Cole would feel. He's _dead_ ," snarled Hank in a low voice. "And it's none of your business how I choose to cope with that."

Connor felt anger curdle in his chest and he opened his mouth beneath Hank's hand without thinking. His teeth sank into flesh, blood spilled on his tongue and his systems started analyzing it even if he knew exactly where it came from. Hank pulled back his hand with a swear.

"Do you have any idea how it made me feel last time I found you passed out on your table, stinking of vodka and damp with sweat?" accused Connor, his voice rising as he pushed himself off the cushions. The analysis results hung in his HUD just like they had last night, but Connor didn't care. The only thing that mattered was that Hank understood what he'd done, how much it had hurt him. "You hadn't even given Sumo food or water before you went and got yourself so drunk you couldn't even get off your chair! Did you even care what would happen?"

Hank cradled his bleeding hand. "You asshole, you fucking bit me!"

"I'll do it again if you dare tell me one more time your drinking has nothing to do with me!" Connor sharply retaliated. "Do you even hear yourself? How hypocritical can you be?!"

"You _bit_ me," repeated Hank, the unbridled rage in his eyes dying down to pure disbelief. "Fucking shit, Connor, that's my _hand_."

The pained anger that had blinded Connor was wiped out by the rush of dread that came with the sight of the blood dripping down Hank's wrist, and everything about the situation became jarringly clear. There was a gash on the side of the human's hand, Connor realized, and he was the one who'd left it there. He'd hurt Hank. He'd wounded his friend and he'd done it instinctively. Connor unthinkingly reached out, but in the same moment Hank pulled away from him to get off the couch.

_Very good, Connor._

"No," he argued, trying to contradict her through the aching of his scarred code. "No, that wasn't..."

"Fuck, _fuck me_ ," muttered Hank from the bathroom. There was clattering, more swearing. "The fuck do you think you are, a dog?!"

Connor shook his head even though he knew Hank wouldn't be able to see him. He'd hurt Hank. He felt Sumo nuzzle at his elbow but didn't pay any attention to it, instead lifting a quivering hand to his mouth. His lips were slick, and when he pulled his fingers away he saw the red staining his fingertips. He'd hurt Hank. He had Hank's blood in his mouth, on his lips, on his fingers. 

"No," he repeated, but the analysis results that came one after the other told him otherwise.

"That better not become a habit every time we argue," Hank shouted down the hallway. "Why the hell did you think it would be a good idea to _bite me_ of all things? You could've punched me, Christ, kneeing me in the balls would've been a better option than eating my damn hand! How am I supposed to explain this, huh?"

Connor shook his head and stumbled off the couch, both hands shaking now, not knowing what he was supposed to do. Hank was his friend, but now Connor was a danger to him, and Connor had never wanted to hurt Hank so maybe Amanda had been the one responsible, it wasn't really him that had done that, was it? He hadn't wanted to do that, he hadn't done it on purpose, he would never hurt Hank but he _had_. She'd congratulated him for it just like she had back then, and it had felt good just like back then. He'd made Hank bleed and he'd sampled his blood just like in the construction last night and that meant- that meant-

"I haven't had to use the first-aid kit in ages." Hank suddenly appeared on the side of the room. "I can't believe you're the one-" 

He stopped in his tracks when he saw Connor standing there. His eyes flickered to Connor's temple, then his hands, and his features turned wary. He slowly raised a hand devoid of blood or bandages.

"Okay, Connor, don't freak out."

"I don't want to kill you." Connor's voice came from a distance.

"What?"

"I was killing you," Connor said. "I had your blood in my mouth because I was killing you. We fought."

"Ooookay," Hank slowly said. "I don't know what you're talking about, but I think you should sit down."

"I have to leave." Connor backed away towards the door.

"No! Nope, no, you're staying." Hank took a hasty step forward and gestured to the living room. "Get back on the couch, Connor."

"I have to leave," repeated Connor, but his legs hit something big and soft behind him. His gaze dropped down to the obstacle and he saw a dog there. Saint Bernard. Sumo.

"Connor, seriously, come sit," Hank insisted, taking another step forward. "I'm not that hurt, I've had worse bites from cats before. My hand will be fine in a few days."

Connor shook his head. Hank continued moving closer.

"Come on, come here. I'm sorry I pushed you down like that, okay, I know you were just defending yourself. Come here, Connor."

"I did it because I was angry," Connor quietly said. "I'll do worse."

"Pretty sure you can't do worse, look at the state you're putting yourself in over one little scratch." Hank took another step. "I mean, Jesus, we both know this wouldn't have happened if I hadn't tried to shut you up by putting my goddamn hand over your mouth. I was asking for it at that point."

"I have to leave."

"No, you don't." Hank closed the distance between them just as Connor was about to step past Sumo and hooked an arm around his chest. "Everything's fine, Connor. We fought because we were both on edge, but now it's over."

"I have to leave."

"I have no idea if you're glitching or whatever but you are _definitely_ fucky right now." Connor felt himself get dragged back towards the couch. "The sight of my blood get to you that bad?"

"I have to leave."

"No, you don't." Hank repeated, and then he sighed. "Christ, I'm so fucking stupid. I shouldn't have gotten that angry with you, not tonight."

Connor resisted it when the human tried to push him down on the couch, his gaze fixated on Hank's bandaged hand. The analysis message kept coming and Connor absent-mindedly rubbed at his tongue to try and get rid of the blood that was still there.

"Shit," Hank swore softly, and he tugged him towards the kitchen instead. "You're not really supposed to leave anything in your mouth, are you?"

"No," answered Connor, and as he finally stopped thinking he needed to leave, a thought crossed his mind. "I can stop the analysis from running, however."

"Yeah, do that. Where are your stress levels at?"

"83%."

"Shit," Hank swore again. They stopped at the sink and Hank filled a glass of water that he handed to Connor, patiently waiting for his shaking fingers to close correctly around it before letting go. "Rinse your mouth."

Connor complied. The water splashed pink against the faintly shining metal when he spat it back out, and he distantly decided that he hated the sight of it. Even if he'd stopped analysing the blood, he could still feel it coating the inside of his mouth. He decided that he hated that, too. Once the glass was empty, Hank took it from him and asked: "You good?"

"Yes."

Hank put it in the sink and turned back to Connor. "Are you coming back a little, or are you still fucky?"

"I don't know."

"Are you gonna stop shaking any time?"

"I don't know."

"I feel like a hug would be good right about now."

"I don't know."

"Yeah, okay." Hank cautiously pulled him by the shoulder, as if testing whether or not Connor was ready to follow the movement. Connor went with it. 

"That's it," Hank said approvingly as he wrapped his arms around him.

Sumo's paws clicked softly on the kitchen floor as the dog came up to them and sniffed concernedly at the cuffs of his pants. Hank started rubbing Connor's back even though Connor wasn't reciprocating the hug in any way, just standing still in his arms, and Connor easily focused on the sensation. It rested his mind to pay attention only to the back-and-forth of Hank's flattened hand between his shoulderblades.

"I'm sorry," said Connor after a while.

"It's fine, Connor. All of this is my fault anyway." Another moment of silence, and then: "What were you talking about earlier, that thing about killing me?"

Connor tried to find a short and efficient way to explain the glitches of his construction program during standby mode, and decided to go with what would be simplest for Hank to understand. "I get nightmares."

He felt Hank nod. "Yeah, I'm not that surprised you do. And... what, you killed me in one of those?"

Connor nodded. He hesitated, and then said: "I'm sorry."

"Hey, no need to apologize. It's not like you wanted to dream about that."

"Still, I'm sorry."

"Okay, Connor. I'm sorry too." Hank's other hand came up to the back of his head and he pulled him closer until Connor's forehead softly hit Hank's shoulder. "I deserved that bite, okay? I was an asshole to push you down like that. Seriously, only assholes do that. You did good defending yourself."

"But I hurt you," quietly said Connor.

"I got surprised more than anything else, don't worry. You did good."

"I'm sorry I talked about Cole." Connor wrapped his arms around himself, shoulders hunching up. "I know that's a line I'm not supposed to cross. I knew it would make you angry, I knew it was a bad idea."

"Hey, hey," Hank soothingly said, the movements of his hand shifting into a calming circle. "No, look, you're right, I need to get my shit together. Cole would hate to see me like this. You were telling the truth, I just couldn't take it and I overreacted. God, I acted like such a jerk, Connor, I'm really sorry. Nines would be right to kick my ass if he knew what just happened."

"I won't tell him," immediately said Connor.

"I wouldn't be angry at you for it. In fact, I think it would be better if you did."

"He's mad at me anyway, we don't talk anymore."

Connor felt Hank's chest move against him when the human took in a deep breath and sighed. "...Yeah. About that, he'll get over it eventually."

Connor didn't say anything else.

"Relax, Connor, we're not going to fight again. You're so tense," observed Hank, and his fingers lightly tapped at Connor's shoulders. Connor forced himself to let them drop again. "There we go."

"Sorry."

"You don't need to keep apologizing, Connor, there's nothing you have to apologize for."

Connor stared at Hank's shirt. This close, he could see every individual fiber that constituted the fabric and the microscopic remains of coffee stains that couldn't be washed out completely. It smelled mainly of laundry detergent but he could also make out sweat, dog, traces of alcohol, and very faint aftershave and deodorant. It smelled like Hank when he'd just put on a clean T-shirt after a day of work.

"Hey, look at that, you're not shaking anymore," calmly said Hank, as if that was worth congratulating Connor for. "Your stress levels drop any?"

"I'm at 75%."

"Hugs really do it for you, don't they. How come you don't ask for them more often if they're that helpful?"

Connor didn't answer.

Hank didn't seem to mind, and he continued talking. "We can stay like this for however long you need it, and then we can watch a movie or something if you want. I'll drive you back to New Jericho once you decide you're better. Deal?"

Connor tiredly closed his eyes as his head rested fully against Hank's tall frame, and he slowly nodded. "Deal."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- 27/12/2019 -
> 
> Shaolin: Lemme just perturb Connor one last time for the road
> 
> Hey pumpkin!  
> Happy holidays to everyone, hope the family gatherings didn't go too terribly- and maybe it even went well for some of you!  
> Just a heads-up, I won't be updating GM,L for a bit because I'll be updating my Android Whump Big Bang fic instead (plus I need a breather).
> 
> Onto the chapter!  
> \- As per usual, please do not follow in Connor's footsteps when it comes to the way he handles his mental health. Anxiolytics are essential to some people's well-being and taking them does not equate to weakness! They are a certain kind of medicine for a certain kind of sickness, as simple as that.  
> \- Progress! Connor is peeking in between the cracks of his denial to get a better look at his past. It's not pleasant, but it's necessary if he ever wants to come to terms with what happened.  
> \- He's still struggling quite a lot with feeling, though. The poor boy needs a lot of support.  
> \- Markus' radiant smile is there to light up Connor's day! Hurray for the pro-android demonstrators who are making a lot of our favorite deviants happy!  
> \- Damn, Shaolin. I know you're traumatized but chill  
> \- Ooooh Markus mad  
> \- Just listen to Hank's old cop wise advice, Connor, you can't fix everything in this god-forsaken city. Humans and androids alike will always be messed up.  
> \- Nines is _not_ in a good mood and I don't blame him  
> \- Ooooh Sixty gone  
> \- So I looked up snow in Detroit and apparently it does snow as late as April which is wild to me, as I'm used to mild French winters and not getting that much snow at all. Needless to say, I was very happy to learn I could exploit this for more angst.  
> \- "Ahhh, a nice evening of relaxing with Hank and Sumo in perspective, how pleasant after all this pesky snow- What the fuck are you doing??" is probably what you were internally screaming when they started fighting.  
> Look, we all know how physical and provocative Hank and Connor respectively get when they're aggravated. Fights with loved ones feel terrible but that's life for you... At least it de-escalated quickly.  
> \- Yes, good, both of you deal with the fallout right now instead of putting it off for later and letting it fester. Poor Connor got really messed up by the blood though.
> 
> Thanks for reading, leave a comment if you feel like it!

**Author's Note:**

> Come by and say hi on [Tumblr](https://lost-tanuki.tumblr.com/post/184765301043/dbh-fics) (link to my DBH fic masterlist), and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/losttanuki)!
> 
> I now have a Discord server called the Pumpkin Patch server, you can pm either me or eremazing on Tumblr/Twitter to join. I'm looking forward to seeing you there!
> 
> About Article 13/17...  
> If you don't know what it is, here is a helpful [post](https://death-over-coffee.tumblr.com/post/184396267266/on-june-20th-the-juri-of-european-parliament).  
> This note is here to warn you that it might stop me from finishing my fic one day.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Ripped Apart](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20467361) by [imthefansentbyfanfiction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/imthefansentbyfanfiction/pseuds/imthefansentbyfanfiction)




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